


Dislocated

by Leaveitbrii



Series: Wouldn't It Be Nice [1]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canonical Character Death, Climbing Class, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Josh Lives, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, but i still really like ashley, climbing trash, exorJosh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:00:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaveitbrii/pseuds/Leaveitbrii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based loosely on the amazing headcanon and AU comics by <a href="http://danji-doodle.tumblr.com">danji-doodle</a><br/> </p><p>It's been a year. He has a girlfriend. He's gotten to the Bone Zone. He's moved on. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boom. Butterfly Effect.

He’s with Ashley when he gets the call. It’s an unexpected caller ID that pops up on his screen, the familiar tune cutting through a battle cry on Tekken as someone falls to their defeat. Ashley looks at him expectantly when the ringing continues, taking time to pause the game, but the softness in her eyes drains away as she stares at Chris. His eyes are rounder, wide, teeth clenching his jaw into a well known look of pain. Something she’s seen too many times.

Chris notices the skeptical look in her eyes, the beginnings of a ‘don’t’ and before she can respond he’s moving, setting down the controller. He slides off the couch without a word, phone pressed to his ear as he hurries to the door. 

“Hello?” He answers, stepping out into the blue hallway of Ashley’s apartment.

It feels as if a decade has past since he’s heard Malia Washington’s voice when in reality it’s only been a year. Her voice is a soft wind in his ear of distant memories.

“Hello, Christopher. I hope I’m not intruding.” The guarded tone sends a sharp pang through him and he clutches the phone tightly in one hand. 

“Not at all, Mrs. Washington. Is everything okay?”

A pause. Chris can hear the faint sound of a computer clicking through the receiver. Malia breathes.

“We found Josh. He’s been undergoing treatment at a private facility and it’s been… successful. I understand with past events this may not necessarily be news you wanted to hear.”

Chris’ mind blanks. They found him. They found Josh, his best friend, the deranged psycho ‘killer’, his best friend that they left in the mines, to die, to be eaten alive. Chris tries to swallow, but his throat burns. 

“What?” There is a thunder in his ears, a loud roar of blood pulsing through his veins. Malia is patient as she’s always been since he and Josh were kids. She waits in silence as if allowing Chris time to fully assess what she’s said, time, he realizes, to hang up and never look back.

“W-When?”

The creak of Ashley’s apartment door comes from behind and he turns to her, face flushed hot. 

“About six months ago. We created a rescue team for the situation, in order to avoid-“, Malia pauses and swallows thickly. Chris can hear the end of the sentence. To avoid what happened with her daughters.

“I’m sure you’ve moved on, Christopher. I’m making this call on behalf of your previous relationship with our family. Samantha will be called shortly after.” Malia informs him, tone clipped and protective. “I understand fully if you do not wish to speak with him or see him given previous-“

“When can I come see him?” Chris interrupts, the hair on the back of his neck rising and he’s already fumbling with his car keys. He can hear Ashley scrambling after him, the loud slam of a door closing echoing behind him.

“If you’d like, you can see him today.” She tells him, relieved.

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Thank you, Chris. We’ll see you soon.”

The line clicks off and Chris stands in the small foyer of the apartment lobby, his mind overanalyzing the warmth in Malia’s voice.

“They found him.”

Chris turns towards Ashley, who is sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, leaning against her knees, face in her hands. Her hair is tied back and Chris can see edges of darkness creeping under her eyes when she looks up at him, face full of understanding and annoyance.

Her smile breaks his heart. “I guess the dream is over.” Ashley mutters bitterly. “Chris, I know there’s nothing I can say to stop you. But please, please remember how much we’ve been through this year. How much we’ve gotten past.”

He remembers the first night back, after they were all released from custody, the questioning finally over but the press hounded them like animals, demanding answers of what really happened up there. They latched onto the story of the last Washington child going missing like vultures in heat, smearing their names through newspapers as a “pack you’d die to get into”. He remembers the first batch of nightmares, the shrill screaming that iced his veins and set his insides on fire with dread as he watched the stranger who helped them get beheaded over and over again while Mike screamed in his ear that his best friend killed Jess. 

His dreams would magnify and fester until he would see Josh, twisted and inhumane, dressed in bloodied overalls. He’d watch him stalk after Ashley, after Sam before ripping them apart. He’d watch tied from the chair where he would decide to kill himself or Ashley, watch as Josh rips Ashley apart, eyes white like Hannah’s, limbs long and deformed, and he’d laugh as Chris sat terrified saying things only Josh would say. 

‘just joshin’ ya, Cochise.’

Chris’ fists are clenched tight at his sides. He forces himself to focus on Ashley, to remember that the prank was where Josh’s blame ended. Ashley rises from her seat, moving towards him, concern etched in her features. She touches his arm gently and he looks at her, unable to force the smile he wants to. 

“You don’t have to go.”

He doesn’t. “He’s my best friend. He’s alive, Ash. I..” Chris tries to breathe. “He needs to know that I went back for him. I-It wasn’t enough but I tried.”

Ashley gives him a sad smile. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” His lips tremble when he kisses her forehead, lips lingering against the skin. Her hand shakes as she grips his sleeve tightly.

“I’m still your girl and I’ll support you because I love you.”

“Thank you.” Chris wishes he could do better by her, wishes that his nightmares didn’t wake her up at night. 

“Tell him I said hello. Invite him over when he feels up to it. I’ll make something.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He kisses her again, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Ashley laughs wetly, petting his hair as she hugs back. “I’ll call you when I’m leaving.”

“I’ll be here.”

Ashley follows him out of her apartment building, arms folded across her stomach. She only walks as far as the sidewalk will let her, standing above the steps. Her eyes never leave him even as his tires squeal against the pavement as he peels out of the parking space, disappearing down the road.

Chris’ mind blanks as he drives, the road to the Washington house fresh in his mind. He can hear the faint beginning of whispers in the back of his mind, the familiar creep of dread that happens when he’s alone. Chris turns on the radio, switching to what Josh had always dubbed ‘the Dad station’. He doesn’t recognize the song itself but it sounds like Metallica. 

Sam calls as he drives, for the first time in months, and he puts her on speaker, a welcomed distraction.

“She called you.” It’s not a question so much as it is an acceptance. 

Chris twists the rubber of the steering wheel under his palm. “Yeah.”

“I’d thought about coming today. But,” Sam sighs. “I wanted time. Time to process. I haven’t forgotten what has happened even though it seems everyone else has. I’m relieved. Are you…relieved?”

“I don’t know.” He admits. Chris had spent so long trying to get better, to move past his own guilt of leaving Josh behind but Mike had said, the wendigo- that Hannah had taken him. “It means I have a lot to apologize for.”

Sam snorts over the line. “You think he’ll want to hear that we feel bad?”

He never considered that. Never considered that Josh might not look past being left behind or being tied up and a gun pointed at him. He had not intention of killing them, despite no one knowing that at the time, but Mike had every intention of killing him because of Jess.

“I don’t know.”

“Me either.” Sam agrees easily. “I feel a bit cowardly for not coming today. I guess I wish that we were being called for three people and not one. Do you think he’ll forgive us? For not listening? The signs were there, Chris. How did we miss them?”

Chris can’t find an answer for her. The police had pulled files from Josh’s psychiatrist, had letters and emails from Dr. Hill saying that Josh hadn’t shown up to sessions for months. Chris had known Josh was on medication- was on medication for the majority of the time they were friends. He can see the beginnings of the Washington house through the trees.

“I’ll let you go.” Sam tells him. “Enjoy your time. Don’t tell me how it goes just yet. I want to see him for myself.”

“Alright. If all goes well, let’s have a party.”

“Har.. har.. I don’t think he’ll want any excitement soon. But we’ll see.”

Sam hangs up without a goodbye, just in time for the road to meet the gravel of the windy road that led up to the Washington’s. There was a gate, Chris doesn’t remember being there with a camera that focuses on him. He pokes his head out the window and gives a small wave before the camera shifts back to the road. The gates crank upwards, disappearing into trees like a carefully constructed disguise. He drives through, unable to see through the thick trees until road becomes the pristine white of the driveway entrance. He circles around the large, round garden placed parallel to the house. There are rose bushes where a bench used to be and the plants seem overgrown and blossoming without the clean balance of a skilled gardener. 

Chris parks along the side, as he always has, and climbs out. The house is the same as before with a resignation of silence. Instead of 5 there were only 3 voices to echo it’s walls. He heads up the marble steps, noting their lack of shine, leaves collecting along the porch. The flowers in the pots near the door are dead, wilted and grey. He lifts a hand to the door bell but before he can ring it the door is opening and Malia Washington stands before looking more her age than she ever had before. Her frame is tiny, dainty almost but she still stands proud as though ready for an attack.

“Chris.” She greets pleasantly.

He raises his hand in response. “Hey.”

“Please, come in.”

Chris walks inside, the instant warmth of the house burning into him with a startling intensity. He regrets layering almost instantly but then Malia is pressing a hand to the small of his back and he has no time to question his clothing sanity. She guides him wordlessly, past the extravagant stairs that lead to the second floor, past the closed office of Bob Washington. They move through darkened hallways, past covered picture frames and turned away portraits. The windows are closed tight, curtains pinched together. It’s a part of the house he remembers coming down many times before. Back when they kept the windows open and music rang through the air. 

Malia pauses before they reach Josh’s room. 

“It will be better if it’s just you.” She tells him. “It’s hard to. To want to give him space and time since he’s been better. But I imagine, he’d be surprised to see you.” 

With that, she leaves him, giving his arm a small squeeze as she walks back the way they came. Chris watches her until she disappears and turns back to the hallway. Josh’s room was straight back to the right, last door on the left. But things were different now. Chris walks slowly, talking himself through each step until he reaches the now blank door that belonged to Josh Washington. There were no more posters tacked up, no personalized ornaments dangling from the doorknob. It was bleak and impersonal. 

Chris doesn’t knock, just turns the knob before he can talk himself back home, back to Ashley, away from everything, away from this. 

The first thing he notices is that the windows here are open, the curtains are drawn back and tied with a silver band. The room is bathed in a warm light from the sun, who peaks past the trees. There are drawings against the wall, beautiful sketches of Hannah and Beth and the wendigo. They are black with thumb smudges, light traces of fingers. Josh’s desk sits pressed underneath one of the bay windows, covered in unbound manuscripts and pages of written words. His bed is a mess of silver and grey and black, sheets untucked, blanket on the floor as if an after thought. Chris holds his breath, unable to comprehend what kind of nightmares Josh sees. 

There is a door tucked in the corner that leads to a patio. It’s carved into the side of a hill, looking over a hidden lake you can only see from the main highway. It’s where he finds Josh, starring over the expanse of water. He’s dressed in a pair of baggy sweats and an old hoodie that Josh recognizes as one of his. It’s one from high school, specifically from an anime club Chris was too embarrassed to tell anyone he was in. Josh clowned him for months until he conceded and quit. 

Josh turns to him, one arm folded lazily over the wooded railing, the other pressed to his chin covering a corner of his mouth. There is a white surgical mask tangled in his fingers. The dark bags under his eyes are deep, old and Josh has never seemed so tired.

A slow smile crosses his face. “Hey, Cochise.” 

Chris chokes on his words, unable to keep the smile from breaking across his face. His insides bubble and curl until he’s sure he’s going to vomit. Josh straightens up, looking a whole lot smaller than he used too. His limbs are frail now, legs thin. He stands before Chris, but only looks at him with the right side of his face, eyes insecure and hesitant. Chris can see the beginnings of a jagged tear

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

“I almost didn’t come. It felt like a dream.”

Josh snorts. “Or a nightmare. Come on, Cochise.”

Chris’ skin prickles underneath his jacket. “How have you been? It’s been a while.”

“I’m not to sure really.” Josh admits, his voice low. “I don’t remember much. According to the police reports and the doctors, I have a ‘psychotic break’. I hurt people, is what they said. I hurt my friends. My mom said she couldn’t look at me. It was like I wasn’t her son. I wasn’t something else. Something wild and animalistic. They had to keep me confined at all times.” Josh looks up at him. “Like something out of a bad possession movie.”

“My dad called in some people from his family. I think to perform a ritual or something. I don’t remember much about what happened on the mountain or the prank or anything except waking up in a straight jacket and vomiting. Lots and lots of vomiting. Maybe I was possessed. I can’t eat the same anymore. Bet you never thought your boy would go on a smoothie diet, huh?” Josh’s laughs is humorless and quiet.

“Look. I’m sorry. For what happened. I didn’t mean for anything to go that far.”

Chris wants to hug him, wants to scream that it wasn’t him but he can’t, he can’t move. Josh gives him a small smile, moving to put his surgical mask back on and Chris sees it for the first time. The left corner of his mouth is discolored, ripped up pale skin stretches along the side of his face as if someone tried to stitch a jagged hole back up. He never noticed the sharp edges to Josh’s teeth until he noticed a fang pressing out of the corner his mouth, gleaming and a painful reminder of what they found in those mines. What found them.

Josh notices Chris staring and his face crumples into a look of disgust as he turns from Chris, hurrying to cover his mouth. 

“Ha, sorry you had to see that, bro. Nothin’ pretty here.”

But Chris isn’t listening. He’s grabbing Josh’s wrist, cringing at how tiny it feels and turns him around so he can see. Josh resists almost immediately, round eyes blown wide. Chris holds Josh close, his friend curling in on himself. He reaches his hand up, thumb lightly brushing over the scar, lone fang drags against the rough pad of skin. Josh flinches away, panic skittering across his face and he’s afraid so, so afraid. Chris’ heart tightens.

“I let you down.” Chris manages to say, throat thick. “This is my fault. I’m so sorry, Josh. I let you down. I let you down. I-“

Chris hugs him close, burying his face into the crown of Josh’s head. His chest heaves with a dry sob. He feels Josh’s thin arms wrap around him, face pressed against the crook of his shoulder. Josh doesn’t smell like the green tea shampoo Ashley uses. He smells like lavender and spices, like earth and the cold bitter chill of the mountain, Josh is trembling in his arms, wordless sounds mouthed into the sleeve of Chris’ jacket. 

Chris doesn’t know how long they stay like that, curled around one another. He ignores the longing that tingles against his spine, the purring content that settles over his mind like a thick glaze.

Josh is here. Josh is alive.


	2. Empty Bird Sounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a recipe for a good mango-strawberry, beet smoothie somewhere.

"You should get home." Josh says stiffly. 

They're on their second mission in Gears of War 3. Chris has died twice because he's been distracted by Josh's chittering. It's a side effect apparently. Just because it's gone doesn't mean there aren't lingering traits. Josh says they’re kind of annoying but Chris imagines it’d be cuter if they were still kids.

Chris checks the time on his phone, startled by just how early in the morning it is. He has two missed calls from Ashley and a couple of texts from their other friends.

"Yeah. I guess I should."

"Not that you have to, Cochise. But I know you have a lady now." Josh gives him a wink, the surgical mask crinkling.

Chris wonders what kind of smile Josh has now. He wonders if it's more crooked than before or of the edges have finally evened out. Or if it’s even a smile. He had known Josh long enough to understand when he was trying too hard- trying to be supportive and friendly. Chris can see the fine edges of exhaustion. Josh turns away from him, staring down at the controller in his lap.

"I can stay."

Josh clicks his tongue. "Won't get to the bone zone with that attitude, man." He teases.

Chris' face heats up and he's rubbing the back of his neck, uncertain. They were best friends. Are best friends, yet Chris felt a certain level of dread in telling Josh that he and Ashley had indeed made it to the bone zone.

"Well..." Chris trails off.

"Don't hold off my account, bro." But there was something in Josh's eyes that made him drop it, some deep intensity that reminded him of the Josh from his dreams. The Josh that kept hunting, capturing, devouring his girlfriend. Chris clasps him on the shoulder gently.

"Gotta leave some things to the imagination, my man."

"Ahh shit." Josh snaps his fingers, round eyes dripping with relief. His phone makes a loud chirping noise from inside Josh's jacket and he checks it wordlessly.

"I'll be back, kay?" Josh leaves without an answer, his footsteps quiet. The door closes behind him. Chris sits in soft silence, deciding to text Ashley while he waits. She misses him.

From: Ash Ketchum  
How is he?

From: Christopher Walken  
He’s thin. Like really thin, Ash. I want to buy him pizza and make him eat the whole thing.

From: Ash Ketchum  
Lol. How did they find him? Was he…

Was he human when they found him. Chris already knows the answer but it’s not his place to give out other people’s business.

From: Christopher Walken  
Not sure. He makes noises sometimes. Like a bird. It’s cute.

From: Ash Ketchum  
Cuter than this?

:img:0899: do you wish to accept?

Chris clicks yes. A picture of Ashley pops up in her Pikachu onesie. Her hair is down, collecting elegantly around her shoulders. Mouth pouty and pink and god, Chris wants to go home to her. But he’s had a year with Ashley. A year he missed with Josh. 

From: Christopher Walken  
DAYUUM GIRL

From: Ash Ketchum  
;) come home soon and you can take it off me.

Chris’ face heats up. He glances around the room out of habit before shooting back a quick reply.

From: Christopher Walken  
Wat r u wearing, hot mama

From: Ash Ketchum  
You get a hint. Lace. Lots of lace.

 

Chris thanks God for Victoria secret. He’s glad he can’t produce sudden nosebleeds. Chris checks the time and realizes Josh has been gone a bit longer than he was anticipating. He wanders out of the room in search for Josh. The faint sound of music flows from the lobby of the Washington home, something his brain is registering as some composer from Germany that Bob Washington fell in love with. Soft clicking comes from one of the closed doors, pans clinking together softly from the kitchen. 

He finds Josh sitting on the counter with three pills in hand, a tall glass of water sitting beside him. Malia is standing in front of him, whispering soft words, coaxing the pills in his hand softly to his mouth.

"We can't lose you again, Josh." 

Josh looks up at her, eyes sunken and dark, his lips twisting into a painful grimace and Chris realizes he's crying. 

"It's okay, baby. It's okay."

Josh nods frantically, popping the pills in his mouth. Chris can see more sharpened teeth, watches the way Josh's throat works the pills down with water. He's stepped in on something awfully private so Chris takes a soft step back before turning away. 

Malia's soft voice follows him back to the room. Josh shows up shortly after, looking more tired than he had before. He's holding a smoothie in his hand. It's bright pink with yellow lined through it.

"It's mango and.. I don't really know." Josh sniffs it. "Strawberries. Maybe a beet. Good shit though. Want to try?"

Chris shrugs. "Yeah man, sure." 

He reaches out to take the glass from Josh. 

"When will you eat normal food?" Chris takes a sip. Its sweet, sickeningly sweet. He must make a face because Josh is laughing at him. Josh sits beside him on the floor, dragging a controller in his lap. 

"I can now. I had a bunch of fruit before you popped up. I don’t like the taste of animal products anymore. Its hard. Because of reasons." 

Josh trails off and Chris immediately understands. 

“So you’re a vegan now? Got any cool powers.”

“Power to kick your ass and sound like a canary.” Josh shoots him a knowing look. "Saw me with my mom, man. How embarrassing is that shit." He snorts out a laugh.

"I didn't mean to, ya know," Chris began. "Sorry, man."

"Nah, dude. It's whatever. Play one more with me before you go."

Chris feels he can't really deny Josh anything. One more becomes two and that becomes the entire game. The setting sun makes an appearance through the trees, leaving Chris wondering how much time has exactly passed. 

According to his phone and Ashley's panicked messages, it's been three hours since he last considered leaving. Josh is texting on his phone, grunting out 'Sam' when Chris stares long enough.

"Have you talked to the others?" Chris asks quietly.

Josh tenses next to him, fingers trembling around his phone. His hand clenches into fists. Josh sighs. "No. I don't know what to say. I... They've moved on? Right? So I mean there's nothing to say."

But there were things to say. Chris had seen them, after the interviews were over. They had piled into Chris' apartment the first night. Emily starring idly out the window while Jess curled around Matt. Sam holding Ashley close as she sobbed. Mike cried too, silently, in the guest bathroom. Everyone pretended they didn't hear. 

It didn't end there. It didn't end when the sun drew down, didn't end when Matt suggested they all stay because he didn't want to go back to an empty apartment. They all packed into Chris' tiny room, the girls took the bed while the guys curled into each other on the floor. He remembers mike telling him how sorry he was. How Matt cried into his shoulder when talking about how Emily wouldn't even look at him now. He could hear Jessica above them, whispering softly as a gross choking noise occurs.

It's then that Emily calls for Matt, her voice broken and lost and suddenly they're all in his bed and Mike keeps telling Chris how sorry he is Josh isn't with them. 

"You should call them." Chris tells him.

Josh turns to him. He studies his face, eyes moving rapidly. Chris doesn't know what he finds, what he sees but Josh looks away and stares into his lap.

"I have to see Sam tomorrow. Will you be there?"

"If you want me to. Anything you want."

"Your girlfriend won't mind?" Josh glances at him out the corner of his eye. 

"No. I don't think so. She told me to tell you hi."

Josh barks out a laugh. "Right. Well. Ok. You should go, man." 

Chris makes moves to protests but Josh is standing and he's walking towards the door. Chris scrambles after him. He reaches for Josh, who snaps around and there are tears in his eyes.

"I'm on five different medications, Chris. Five! I can't... I can't. I'm so tired. You should go, please go." Josh begs. "I can't even hear Hannah and Beth anymore and they say that's good, that it's good that the only connection I have left of them is gone. They buried them months ago, actually placed their bodies in the ground. They're gone, Chris. They're gone forever and I'm on five different goddamn medications!"

Josh sinks to the floor, nails digging into the hardwood floors and he's sobbing. Watching this is worse than watching Ashley. She cries quietly and holds herself so tight Chris thinks she may break. But Josh, Josh sounds wrecked and the way he trembles reminds him so much of the boy they left tied up in the shed.

Chris gathers him in his arms, holds him close to his chest as he rocks them together. Josh fights him, his strength surprising and he's snarling and angry and then as if all at once he stops. Chris presses their foreheads together, securing Josh to him. He watches his best friend's eyes squeeze shut, the way his jaw locks up, the tight grip he has on Chris' jacket.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Chris."

"No. Don’t you ever apologize to me." Chris tells him firmly and Josh's eyes meet his, red with tears, milky white edges slipping into the irises. Chris is scared, feels scared- of losing Josh again, of losing everything and having to start over.

“Please stay.” Josh whispers.

He tells Ashley he can't come home just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys go read her comics yet? If not what are ya waiting for.  
> This is a bit short. I have no control over my life anymore.


	3. Letters to Matilda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil' bit of Sammy in my life, lil' bit Joshy on the side, lil' bit of Ashleys all I need. I think.

It's easy to remember the time before Mt. Washington, easy to fall back into the flow of routine they always had. He forgets what it feels like to be at ease, to sit down and actually relax. Sam has told him constantly that yoga helps her but he’s definitely not going anywhere in spandex especially where his chub is concerned. Regardless, Chris probably hasn’t taken a load off since the day they left for Mt. Washington because of Ashley, because of his own nightmares. But with Josh it feels easy, too easy, like wadding through warm, clear water during spring. He had forgotten what staying up late playing video games felt like- Ashley could only play for so long, forgotten watching movies in the theater room downstairs. He’d forgotten a lot of things.

Chris watches Josh change, brow furrowed in annoyance when Josh changes shirts a fifth time. He watches Josh move back towards his closet, all sharp angles and bones than before, but Chris still hasn't seen the real story underneath the dark undershirt Josh kept wearing.

"It's Sam, Josh."

“It’s another person who gets to see how fucked I am. Better be dressed nice for the occasion.” A shirt gets sent across the room, then another and eventually Josh settles on a maroon long sleeved crew neck. The chittering noise is back which Chris registers as close to ‘tsk’ as Josh can get.

Their eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror but Chris can't make out Josh's expression. The surgical mask covers most of his face, drowning out the full effect of whatever emotion Josh manages to muster up. But for what he can see, Josh just looks exhausted.

"You can do this, bro. I'll be right here." Chris assures him. "It's Sam, ok? Plus she's been blowing up my phone since she woke up this morning."

Josh's laugh muffles against the mask. "She's probably mad I'm not texting back."

Chris checks his phone. "She might've mentioned that."

Chris gestures to the surgical mask. "Why are you even wearing that? I figured after the hissing last night we'd be past that."

He can see the rising blush and Josh's head snaps towards him. "I don't hiss."

"Yeah, sure, whatever bro."Chris huffs. Josh did in fact hiss. Especially when Chris managed to startle him after only being gone two seconds.

“Is this okay?” Josh slides the crew neck over his head with practiced ease.

It doesn’t hug him quite as nice as it used to but it’s cute. When Chris doesn’t respond immediately, Josh bristles, reaching for the edge of the shirt ready to rip it off like the five others. Chris holds up his hand quickly.

“It looks good, bro.”

Josh eyes him skeptically and faces the mirror, poking at the slouch in the sleeve. His voice is quiet. "Do I look sick?”

Their eyes meet again. Chris chews the inside of his mouth, unsure of how to proceed. Josh looked sick. Was sick. But he wasn’t a monster, wasn’t eating people or dying in a cave somewhere. He wasn't dead. Josh didn’t look healthy but he looked-

“Better. You look better.” Chris told him.

Color was coming back to him, slipping along his skin like a faded tan and the twitching in his left eye stopped. He wasn’t Josh completely, but his body was trying to be.

 Josh tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Okay.”

But he’s not looking at Chris anymore, instead fixing his gaze on his feet. His shoulder shakes a little. A quiet ding echoes through the room followed shortly by the familiar chirp of Josh’s alarm. "You look good, babydoll." 

Chris winks at him.

"Shut up, Chris." Josh mumbles, the part of his face Chris can see a deep red. "Be back, Kay?" Again Josh leaves before he can respond, phone in hand and Chris knows its time for his second dose.

It had been startling at first being woken up so early by the knocking on Josh’s door because of his medication. But Josh was nowhere to be seen. Chris had panicked for a good two minutes before Malia pressed a finger to her lips and told him quietly to listen. There had been a soft purring noise coming from underneath Josh’s bed. When Chris had looked, he found Josh and the source. Josh was curled up, wrapped around a dark quilt and Chris’ embarrassing Anime club jacket, purring quietly. His lips were parted around noiseless words, fucking purring. It had been the second most mortifying thing he had ever seen.

 And also something he’d never admit to being absolutely adorable.

 Chris checks his phone, noticing a message from Matt. He swipes it unlocked and opens the message. They hadn’t talked as much lately, but Matt had a full course load and football while Chris had Ashley and one class.

From: Matt Damon  
Hey man. Talked 2 sam.  
She said they found josh?

 

From: Kristofferson Fox  
Yeah. They did.  
I’m with him now.

A couple of minutes went by before Matt replied. The ‘…’ icon popping and up and disappearing before Matt actually sent a response.

From: Matt Damon  
Why didn’t Mrs. Washington call me?  
We were friends to.

Chris stares at the screen, mildly surprised. He wasn’t sure how exactly to respond seeing as Matt and Josh weren’t as close as he and Sam were to him. But it warmed something deep inside him, knowing Matt was concerned and annoyed with not being next on the list of “kin”.

From: Kristofferson Fox

Ha.  
He's not doing too good with the whole idea of meeting anyone. We'll see when he's ready.  
I’m happy you want to see him

The response is immediate.

From: Matt Damon  
Duh, dumbass. We were F-R-I-E-N-D-S.  
How many of us have them?  
We could have died, man. I mean the prank was bad.  
But at least no one died like with..  
Yeah.

Chris works to respond but the ‘…’ icon is still blinking.

From: Matt Damon  
Jess is pissed. Srry.  
If the mountain didn’t make us tight  
I don’t know what else will.  
Vampires? Zombies?  
Maybe zombies.

From: Jessie :d  
HEY ASSHOLE YOU CAN’T JUST KEEP JOSH TO YOURSELF  
TELL HIM I SAID HI  
NONE OF THAT OH I FORGOT BULLSHIT  
I KNOW wheRE YOU LIVE BINCH

From: Jessie :d  
Also Emily wants to know if Josh is working that back from the dead look.  
Ah. That’s insensitive. Srry, boo! :x  
How is he? 

 Chris laughs loudly, staring fondly at the screen just as Josh walks back in. His actions earned him a raised eyebrow and a slow slip of dark green smoothie.

“What’s up, Cochise?”

Before Chris can respond Josh is holding up his hand as if to say never mind. He chucks the smoothie down, throat working rapidly. Chris chuckles softly, watching the look of disgust Josh makes as he finishes.

"Shits nasty, bro. It's asparagus and spinach. It tastes like orange juice. My senses are confused." Josh whimpers. "I told Sam I was vegan and she clowned me. Totally ripped apart my self confidence. Chicks don't respect a man who respects life anymore."

There is an edge to his voice Chris can't quite place. Josh sits beside him on the floor, knees bumping, shoulders touching and he inhales slowly. 

"What if she freaks out?" Josh fingers the inside of his empty glass, smearing dark green liquid along the rim. "What if I'm not what she's expecting? Do I look sorry enough? Am I sick enough? I mean, I... I don't need her to forgive me because I've done shitty things but is this enough for her to know how sorry I am?"

Chris wraps an arm around him, thumb circling the edge of Josh's shoulder. He presses him mouth into Josh’s crown and sighs. It's been a year. A year of not knowing, a year of acceptance and mourning. But Josh is no longer dead, or thought to be dead- he's beside Chris with his head pressed against his shoulder.

"I think she's already forgiven you." Chris considers telling him about the text messages but he doesn't want to overwhelm him. Josh's sense of guilt seems never ending. 

"We don't have to talk about what happened on the mountain. We can eventually. But not now."

"Not now." Josh agrees.

The sound of the doorbell cuts through the house and Josh shoots up, hands clenched into fists. His spine is bent upwards looking too much like a spooked cat than a human being. Chris lightly touches his ankle, earning a startled yelp.

"Just the doorbell, man. You'll get accustomed to it again."

Josh looks at him, giving him a small crooked smile before moving to put on his surgical mask. Chris grasps his wrists gently, halting the movement. He can feel the heat of Josh's gaze. 

"Let her see. We're friends, Josh. She's our friend. I'm here with you. But if it's too much you can put it on, ok? Just consider for a second."

Josh seems to, sharp teeth chewing at his bottom lip lightly. Voices ring from the hallway and Chris eyes the door expectantly.

"I can't see her. Can we reschedule?"

"Josh, she's here. She-"

Josh grips his arms tightly. "I'm not ready. I..!"

The door pops open and just like that Sam is there, in Adidas and fucking yoga pants. The smile that spreads across her face brightens with each movement. Chris lifts his hand to wave but Josh is frozen in front of him, eyes locked on an unknown spot on Chris' shirt.

"Josh. Josh it is you!"

Josh peers over his shoulder slowly, the hair on his arms rising. Chris watches the exchange, the way Sam slowly approaches them, her smile ever bright and steady. She looks so damn happy to see him.

Josh quickly turns back to Chris. "She's happy to see me." He says, confused. "She's happy. To see. Me."

He turns back to Sam, only barely moving to fully face her and she's in his arms, hugging him tightly to Chris. Chris grunts at the sudden weight and steps to accommodate them. Josh is pressed to Chris' chest, Sam's arms wrapped around his neck and shoulder as he stares wide eyed ahead. His arms tremble, unable to move as Sam whispers in his ear.

"I've missed you so much. So much, Josh. I'm so pissed Chris saw you first."

And just like that Josh is hugging her close, rubbing tears into her shoulder. Sam’s fingers caress the skin on his neck, repeating "it's okay" over and over. Chris wraps his arms around both of them and Josh only seems to cry harder, his entire body shaking. 

Chris knows they stand there long enough for the sun to have moved lower, long enough for his legs to actually begin to cramp. So he pries himself away suggesting they watch some dumb old movie. But Sam doesn't let go of Josh and he's unsettled in the way Josh presses his face into the side of her neck.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

From: Ash Ketchum  
Will you be home tonight?  
Mamas makin' pasta.  
Mama as in me. 

He reads the message over and over, unable to respond and he's looking up at Sam and Josh, looking at the way Sam holds Josh's face in her hands, the slow beginning of a teary smile crawling across his best friend's face. Chris feels a pang of envy and he wants- wants to be included, wants to be the one who can touch the scars on Josh's face without him flinching away.

But it's not him. It's Sam.

And he hates it.


	4. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mom's spaghetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, just a warning there are sexual undertones or an inexplicit sex scene. Very short.

Chris likes Sam, he truly does. Likes her personality and the way she has a climbing analogy for every situation. She's fun and supportive, overall the kind of girl you'd want as a friend.

However,. Sam is also the type of person who manages to make you look like a shit friend without really trying; not that Sam tries but yeah. Sam has already managed to figure out all of Josh's medication alarms, two nearby vegan restaurants that stay open until 1 AM, eight different youtubers who have facial scars and how they deal with them, and lastly, Sam has managed to bring all of Josh's favorite vinyls over with her.

Chris is overwhelmed. He's overwhelmed and annoyed. Josh on the other hand is over the moon.

"This is so great, Sam. Where did you even get these?" Josh beams, holding up a gleaming copy of Mask by the Bauhaus.

"They're yours dumb ass. After Hannah and," Sam pauses. "I just kept them. You asked me to."

"This is great." Josh looks at where Chris is sitting on his bed- absolutely not pouting. "Chris, she even has Abba."

Chris smacks at hand over his face. "No Abba."

"Abba!!!!" Josh shouts, scrambling to his feet. He's digging in his closet before Chris or Sam can stop him. When he returns there is a small shoebox in his hands. He dumps the contents on the floor. Old photographs scatter everywhere but Josh is determined in his search. He immediately pulls a worn of picture from the pile. Josh crawls towards Chris, smiling brightly down at the picture before setting it in his lap.

Chris takes the picture in his hand, mouth spreading into an embarrassed grimace. It's of Chris, Josh, Hannah and Beth. He doesn't know whose taking the photo but they're all dressed in tacky, bad tie dye shirts and bright yellow shorts. Josh is missing a front tooth and screaming silently while holding an Abba sign over his head. Beth is on Chris back, fist pumping as he puts on a brave face. Hannah stands in the middle with ribbons in her hair, looking all shades of not wanting to be there.

He holds the picture tightly in his fingers, creasing the worn edges. Times had changed. It was down to the last two.

"It's okay, Josh."

Chris' head snaps up, catching only the brief look of tears before Josh's face disappears into Sam's shoulder. Chris likes Sam. Probably loves Sam the same way he loves Josh, no, the same he loves Jess and Matt.

It's not like Chris has anything against her because he doesn't. They had gotten pretty close over the year but he can't help but feel some level of contempt towards her when Josh leans against her during the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari rather than Chris.

He's just being childish. And unsupportive. Josh needs people besides him in his life. He needs his friends. Chris is just being childish.

Well that's what he tells himself a day later and Chris still feels absolutely moody, teenage stricken pout of shame. Ashley finds his new found development of pissiness cute. She also keeps mentioning how Chris has managed to studiously ignore Sam’s text messages.

 

“I’m not being weird.” Chris argues, working on a dirtied plate. He’s up to his elbows in soapy water. Two hours had passed of cleaning- “Just cleaning, Ashley, stop looking at me like that”- leaving Chris’ entire apartment sparkly and smelling faintly of lemon zest. Ashley sits on the counter beside the sink, studiously drying dish after dish.

She levels him with an unimpressed eyebrow. "You’re cleaning. You never clean, Chris. I have to bribe you to take out the trash. Do you remember the pizza boxes? The cheese in the fridge?”

Chris groans. “Josh told you! I’m going to strangle him.”

“No, Sam did. Although he sent out a snap about it years ago.” Ashley sets another dish in the cabinet above her. “Still gross and still relevant.”

Chris slumps against the sink, resting on soapy elbows as he stares into the blank wall in front of him. Ashley shifts, placing a small hand against his neck. Her thumb presses against the underside of his jaw as she traces lazy lines into his skin. “Wanna talk?”

There was nothing to talk about beyond the obvious, unnecessary jealousy issues Chris managed to gain in less than 12 hours. He tries to think back to high school, but is unable to find any sort of history of this behavior. Unlike now though, Chris had always been Josh’s number one, even when he was chasing Ashley. Chris has always known Josh and Sam had… something. He doesn’t know what the something is but he’s walked in on conversations enough, where Sam is tucked close to Josh or Josh has his arm around her waist, Chris has seen enough to know that something is there.

But he knows something is here to, some unsteady ground between them that’s been there since the middle school ‘Friendship Dance’ and Josh had been pressed up against in the corner of the gym, giggling in his ear. They could of had something, something before Josh and Sam had something but Chris chased Ashley.

 

“Chris?”

Chris releases a small laugh. He also has a girlfriend, who is relevant and lovely. Chris straightens, leaning up to kiss her softly on the mouth. She smells like cherries.

“Just weird having him home.” He lies.

Ashley nods, understanding. “A lot has happened. There were a lot of variables but I don’t think any of us expected it.”

Chris nods, moving to stand between her legs. The dark circles under her eyes are gone, skin bright with color and feeling, and her hair no longer falls out in the shower. Ashley wasn’t better but she was getting there. Back to normal.

Ashley leans forward, her hands grasp his shoulders tightly, eyes frantic as they searched his face. Chris can see her hesitance, her insecurity and how it burned through his conscience. He had a girlfriend, a girlfriend who also needed his support, his love. Chris fights away the lingering thoughts of Josh, how long he was down in the mines eating whatever he could find, whoever he could find.

“We’re okay.” Chris tells her.

The blossoming smile that spreads across her face isn’t enough to curb the sense of dread that coils inside him. But it is enough for him to press his mouth to hers, lips parting as he wedges himself closer. Ashley sighs into him, tongue slipping out of her mouth to meet his. Their movements are slow, lazy, Chris hand reaching up to pull down the zipper to her jacket. Ashley leans into him, clothes and skin damp from where he's touched her, legs spreading wider as he slides closer to the counter. The jacket falls away to reveal a black lace bralette. Chris whistles.

“Were you planning on leaving the house in this?”

Ashley punches his shoulder. “Shut up its cute.” 

Chris clicks his tongue, tracing the curve of her breast with his fingers. He reaches around to her back, feeling the smooth, soft fabric beneath his palm. His lips brush against her collar bone, other hand coming slide up the inside of her thighs. Ashley is soft, all gentle curves and slopes that fit nicely against him. 

"Can you shut your phone off?" Her voice is in his ear. "It's distracting."

He hears it then, the ringing coming from his jacket that rests on top of the kitchen table. His brow arches into a frown and Ashley laughs beautifully as he huffs, moving away to check to see who's calling. 

The closer he gets, the more he realizes who it is if the tone of Grillz by Nelly is anything to go by. It had a been a joke at the time. Josh had just gotten his braces removed and kept taking pictures of his teeth and posting them on Facebook. Chris still has most of them saved on his computer as early high school prank material. Chris finds his phone in the front pocket of his jacket, a picture of Josh, unbroken and slightly less crooked smile, peering up at him.

"Who is it?" Ashley calls from behind him, her tone slightly worried when Chris stares idly at the screen. 

"Josh." Chris answers.

He doesn't turn back to her, seemingly aware of the disappointed look she'd send him when he presses the phone to his ear.

"Hey man."

A pause. "Hey, uh, Chris... Are you busy?" 

"Just chilling with my lady. What's up, man? You okay?"

There's a crackling noise that buzzes into the receiver from Josh's breathing. Chris jumps, startled when Ashley's hands wrap around his waist. Her right hand reaches up his shirt, circling the small flab that sits there, while the other works on his belt.

"Yeah.. Yeah I'm fine. Sam said you didn't answer her text. We were going to watch movies later. If," Josh hesitates. "If you want to come by."

"U-um, I'll probably stop by later." Chris stutters, angling the phone from his mouth with a hitch. Ashley's hand is down his pants and he definitely needs to get off the phone. "I'll see you then, man."

Josh is quiet on the other line and Chris really, really hopes he can't hear any of the breathy noises he's trying not to make. He opens his mouth to speak but a quiet moan comes out instead when Ashley's wrists flicks right.

"Yeah ok." Josh mumbles, voice sounding hard. "I'll see you."

The phone clicks off into a painful silence but Chris has no time to dwell on it before he's kissing Ashley against the kitchen table, working her shorts down passed her knees. And if he thinks about Josh staring at the phone with a blank face the entire time he's not sure anyone who judge. 

He feels bad. He does. It also wouldn't be the first time they had talked on the phone while someone's going down on Josh or the first time either of them has had sex while the other was on the line but this time feels different, feels a bit more personal. 

So Chris paces in front of the door to the Washington's, jittery and nervous despite the relaxed high filtering through his brain. He's thinking he should've stayed home with Ashley because Ashley was safe, she was nice and understanding and also talented with her-

"That's why you're in this situation." Chris mumbles, pressing the doorbell before he can stop himself.

A few seconds tick by and its Malia answering the door with a polite smile. 

"Chris. Josh said you might be by. Sam is here already. They're in the kitchen." Malia informs him before wandering up the long stairs to the second floor.

Chris swallows, closing the door behind him soundly. He can hear hushed giggles, soft whispers as he approaches the kitchen. Sam is on the kitchen island, one leg folded underneath her and she's holding a colorful pizza with a dark crust. 

Josh's back is to him, dressed in a plain black shirt and sweats that hang low on his hips. Chris makes out the white bands of the surgical mask clasped around his head. Sam notices him first.

"Chris! You're just in time to try this raw pizza we just made." Sam tells him cheerfully. "It's has peppers and cucumber and other types of bird feed."

"Shut up, Sam." Josh mumbles, turning around to face them. There's no heat in his words, eyes soft and warm, until they turn to Chris. Josh's eyes sharpen, narrowing slightly but as soon as it's there it's gone and his eyes are crinkling in the corners.

"Hey, Cochise." He raises his hand in greeting.

Chris wants to frown, wants to ask what's up with the curt greeting but Sam is there and seemingly oblivious to the exchange. Plus it's Chris' fault.

Josh untucks the straps of the surgical mask from behind his right ear and it dangles to the side. He reaches for a slice of pizza, purring softly as he eats it. "This is good."

Sam winks at Chris. "Tumblr. Wanna try?"

She holds out a slice. It's devoid of cheese and pepperoni like the ones in the past, fully packed with slices of red onion, avocado, tomato and Chris wants to say sweet potato but he isn't sure. He's hyper-aware of the way Josh's eyes lock on him.

Chris takes the slice from her. He eats it wordlessly. The texture is different, the crust a little too crumbly but it's not unpleasant by any means. He also comes to the conclusion that it is indeed sweet potato.

"This is good." Chris tells them around another bite.

Sam smirks knowingly as if to say 'duh' and slides off the counter. Her phone beeps and she looks at it before signaling she'd be back.

"Sam teaches rock climbing now." Josh says, staring at the ground. "And yoga. I'm a bit jealous. She has a lot of outlets."

Chris nods in agreement and they fall into an uncomfortable silence, Josh taking off the rest of the surgical mask. The lone fang seems less menacing, making a slow retreat back to where it grew from. The bags under his eyes are darker, more prominent but there's a color to his face, darker, more like before.

"You heard us." Chris focuses on Josh, on the way he relaxes against the kitchen counter, gaze lazy as it drags its way up to meet Chris.

"Yeah."

Chris isn't sure what to say because Josh seems smaller than before, seems worn and tired and-

"You're angry."

Josh shrugs his shoulders. "Nah, man. It's not a big deal."

"Josh-"

"Oh man, that was one of my students." Sam bursts into the kitchen, appearing flushed. "I had to push class to..." She studies Chris, then Josh. "What's wrong?"

Josh sends her a crooked smile. "'M tired. Let's go watch a shitty movie. I have the Hills have Eyes the original and I plan on watching it today."

Josh doesn't wait for them to follow as he disappears down the hallway Sam just came back from. Sam sends Chris a look, mouthing 'what happened' and Chris shrugs because what can he say, he's not fully sure what's going on besides Josh being annoyed with their previous phone call. Sam rolls her eyes.

"Fine. Come on then. Before bird man gets irritated that we haven't arrived."

Chris follows Sam, down the hall, near the front door where a set of double doors stand, appearing plain and ordinary until they're opened. A wide screen stretches in the immediate distant, four rows of seats between them and the screen. There are a flight of steps to the right, where Josh is fiddling with a projector. Sam bounces off to find a seat, nudging Chris in Josh's direction.

Chris adjusts his glasses. He stares at her retreating back before gathering enough courage to face the situation. The climb up the stairs is easy but his legs feel like jelly by the time he reaches Josh, who actively fiddles through different realms of films.

"Having trouble?"

Josh's face is barely illuminated by the narrow light in the booth, but Chris manages to catch his annoyed look.

"I had it in here earlier" Josh fumbles around some more before making a noise of triumphant (more chittering). 

He inserts the reel into the projector, lining up the film before flipping a switch. The lights flicker in the home theater before dimming and the movie starts. Sam makes a whooping noise. Josh smirks, the left side of his mouth twitching into a dangerous look. 

Chris shuffles from one foot to the other, unsure if Josh is actually ok. His best friend looks at him, flashes of white images casting long shadows over his face. 

"Look, Josh. I'm sorry about the phone thing."

Josh shrugs sluggishly, rising out of the seat slowly. The height difference is slight but Josh seems a lot bigger than him right now. Josh leans forward slightly, face at an angle, eyes slight and curious. There are butterflies in Chris' stomach that beat up into his ribs and Josh is pressing a hand over his heart. 

The lazy smile that draws across the other's face sets his skin ablaze, lips barely brushing and Josh is gone like that, leaving Chris behind, face hot and his palms are sweaty.

"Coming, Cochise?"

Chris glances over his shoulder at Josh, bathed in the warm light of the movie. Josh resembles a pleased cat in this moment, content and knowing and if he had a tail it'd be curled along the floor.

Chris heads down the stairs after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I don't beta my stuff? I caaaaaan /sings/


	5. On Holding Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step closer.

"Josh is a vegan? Josh? Pepperoni popping, sausage loving, 'veggies are for birds' Josh?"

Chris confirms with a head tilt, mouth currently full of pizza. Ashley is beside him, texting quietly as Jess and Emily sit across from them, looking far too attractive and powerful to be seen in a rinky dink tiny pizza joint.

Jess has scars on her face, faded into light red lines. But she looks better than Chris has seen since before the events at the mountain. Her eyes have a sparkle of life in them again but Chris can't help but notice the way she leans into Emily, their arms hooked together. He hadn't heard anything about her and Mike breaking up but he also hasn't heard from Mike in a while.

Emily on the other hand has longer hair now, longer than Jess', and it's inky black strands remind Chris of Jennifer's Body. She leans forward, arms crossing against the table as she moves.

"I bet Sam is his own personal house chef."

"She probably started following those vegan blogs she always used to bitch about." Jess adds, ripping a piece of crust of her pizza. "It's kinda cute though."

Emily scoffs. "She's been like that with him ages. Sam's a mom."

"Think they'll get together?" Chris inquires, solely for science.

"Don't think so. Josh has the wrong bits."

Emily makes a scissor motion with her hand. Jess nudges her, earning a pointed glare. She holds up a finger to her lips and Emily immediately seems to understand.

Chris' eyebrows raise. "Sam is a lesbian?"

"Shut up, Chris." Jess shushes him, peering around the small room. The only people inside besides them and the lone worker was an old lady.

"Sam's private. We only know because we've caught her once-"

"More like twice." Jess mumbles.

Emily continues, "with a some girls we used to take labs with. And now you guys know."

Ashley finally looks up, appearing confused as she assesses the information. Her nose scrunches cutely.

"She told us that freshman year." Ashley informs them, locking her phone. When she gets three puzzled stares in returns her eyes roll so hard Chris is surprised it didn't make a noise.

"At Emily's lakehouse? The party with the art show? Emily only let Chloe Denner hang her stuff up because she said it was for charity?"

It clicks together with Jess first.

"Oh my god, she did!"

"Who is Chloe Denner?" Emily asks, annoyance evident in her voice.

"Dark hair. Big boobs. Slept with Mike in your closet." Chris supplies, suddenly remembering.

"That slut? ...That slut." Emily confirms, taking an aggressive bite out of her slice of pizza.

“Are you and Matt still together?” Chris asks while its fresh in his mind.

Emily nods but Jess is the one who actually responds. “We’re all together. One giant bundle of cupcake eating shit. Gets rids of a lot of unnecessary tension.”

She winks and Ashley blushes a light shade of pink. Jess leans back in her seat. "But seriously. Sam. Extra sneaky."

Ashley smiles. "It's not like she's said anything about it since. Sam doesn't even talk about anyone."

"Instead she'd talk about Chris and Josh." Emily points at Chris with a cheese stick. "We thought you two raging gays would be sticking it by college but sweets stole you away."

Jess bursts out into laughter. "We used to purposely make you guys play seven minutes to see if we could catch y'all making out but you'd just talk about Pokemon the entire time."

Chris' mouth falls open, cheeks tinting pink. "You did that shit on purpose?!"

Jess nods frantically, an arm draped over Emily's shoulder as her body shakes with laughter. Emily is laughing too, privately behind her hand.

"We would write notes about it. It was the cutest thing, you and Josh." Emily says, turning to Ashley as if an after thought. "Not that you guys aren't cute."

Jess hurries to agree. "You guys totally are. Just reminiscing."

But Ashley's smile is tight when it appears on her face, stretched too far, too thin. An awkward silence falls over them with Jess poking at the last of her crust while Emily and Chris eat what's left of their slices. It reminds him of high school.

"Is he going to let us see him?" Ashley asks quietly, twiddling her phone around. She appears anxious, lips pinched close together. Her eyes don't leave the phone when Chris answers.

"I don't know. Sam and I are working on it but he hasn't caved. He won't even leave the house."

Jess sucks her teeth. "That sucks.... I want to see him." She looks up at Chris, the fine lines on her face a constant reminder. "I want to tell him I'm sorry. For what happened to Hannah. I... I want him to know that I don't blame him. I mean who could predict fucking wendigos."

Her voice breaks towards the end, chin trembling as large tears form. She breathes out an unsteady sigh, fists clenched tightly on the table. Emily places an arm around her, the other hand coming to rest on her arm.

"I hid from them. In those damn mines I hid from them and I saw her. I saw her and I ran." The last part comes out muffled, Jess collapsing into a fit of tears as Emily presses soft kisses to the top of her head. Ashley reaches out to grab Jess' hand and she squeezes. Chris, unsure of what to do or say, does the same and Jess gives them a watery smile.

"Ha. I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't cry about this anymore." Jess sniffs, wiping her face with the palms of her hands. Emily hands her a napkin.

"Just tell him, when he's ready we'll be here." Emily meets Chris' gaze, her stare genuine.

"I'll tell him."

The remainder of their time together flashes by in quick seconds. Emily has Jess laughing again by the time they’re throwing away their trays and Ashley nudges him in the rib as she points to their linked hands.

“Later losers.” Emily tosses them a two fingered salute, Jess waving from the passenger seat. She reaches out to grab Chris’ sleeve.

“You promised you’d come with me to my next therapy session. Don’t forget, Christopher. I will send my three dogs after your ass.”

“You have three dogs?” Chris looks to Emily to confirm and she’s nodding.

“We got three attack dogs, specifically three giant damn babies. They love Matt.”

“And me!” Jess grins widely, leaning against the open window. "Mike not so much. Considering he befriended a wolf, his ego is pretty injured."

Emily rolls her eyes, sliding inside the car with a ‘tsk’. Jess looks back at her and then to them, cupping a hand around her mouth. 

“Emily says she doesn’t like them but I saw her sitting on the floor with Benji while she was studying and they were so close and cute and bonding.”

“We’re leaving!” Emily’s voice rings out, high and embarrassed.

Chris and Ashley waves them off, making small jokes about Matt and Mike being their trophy boyfriends as Emily speeds off in her Camaro. Ashley reaches for his hand as they walk and he takes it easily falling into step with her. His apartment isn't far from the pizza place, isn't far from Jess' either but Chris kinda wishes they drove.

"Jess looks better."

"Yeah, she does." Chris agrees. “I’m glad her and Em are good again.”

“Are we going to talk about it?"

Chris hums in response, peering down at her. Ashley pauses on the sidewalk, staring at their linked fingers. "About Josh."

"What about him?"

Ashley's other hand reaches up to adjust her beanie. She pulls it off wordlessly, moving the tiny Pom from side to side.

"Are you guys okay?"

Ashley is looking at him now, borderline invasive and Chris squirms under the intensity wondering if she can see into his being, if she can see how he's been feeling recently.

"We're fine."

"Sam said you guys argued. Then you made up. What was it about?"

"Just guy stuff."

The corners of her mouth twitches. "Your best friend comes back from the dead, fucked up more than he was before, comes back from eating people and you both argued over guy stuff?"

Chris shrugs helplessly. "Yeah."

Ashley lets go of his hand. "Chris that can't possibly make sense to you. Did... Did he tell you anything?"

Her eyes burn into him and Chris doesn't understand her sudden burst of curiosity. They barely talked about Josh with each other beyond the polite talks they had when Chris would come back from the Washington's.

"What is this about?" Chris asks her, pushing his glasses up.

Ashley averts her eyes, twisting her beanie in her small hands before she puts it back on and walks head of him.

"It's nothing. Let's just go home."

She keeps a steady distance until they reach his apartment building, still continuing to ignore him when he tries to ask her what's wrong. Chris folds his arms across his chest, annoyance twitching against his mouth.

“What is up with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is up with me. Everything is fine, Chris.” Ashley snaps. “Can we please go inside?”

Chris doesn’t budge. “Something’s up. I’m your boyfriend, Ash. What is wrong with you? Did I do something?”

He stares down at Ashley until she squirms, absolutely fuming in her silence. Chris almost lets up, almost, but then Ashley is shouting at him.

“We were okay! We weren’t good but we were better and everything was getting better.” Her voice hitches and she’s crying. “I don’t want to be anyone’s second best. Josh said this would happen.”

Chris straightens. “Josh told you, you were second best?"

She nods furiously, wiping away persistent tears with her sleeve. “He was so drunk I doubt he even remembers. He said I was a safe house for you, I was simple and easy because you couldn’t handle actual relationships.”

“W-what? When, Ashley?

Ashley hiccups, covering her mouth as she cries. “He kept saying how nice I was and pretty but I wasn’t what you needed. And I’m not, Chris! I’m not! Your fucking best friend is right.” She wheezes, stepping back when Chris reaches for her. “I’m going home. I don’t want to see you right now. I’m sorry. Please understand. You've been acting strange and I hate it. I hate it so much, Chris."

Chris offers to take her home, tries to console her but Ashley pushes him away each time, her voice soft. So Chris watches her leave, the way her hesitant stride becomes more pronounced with each step and she’s gone.

She’s gone and Chris sees red, blood boiling in his ears.

“What did you say to her?”

Josh seems startled to see Chris, eying his disheveled appearance with nose twitch. He’s on the floor in his room, a pen between his lips. There are papers strewn across the floor along with various sketches of monsters Chris doesn’t recognize.

“Who?”

“My fucking girlfriend!” Chris slams the door shut behind him, wincing when he remembers Malia is home. To be frank, Chris doesn’t remember the drive or seeing Malia at the door. But he does remember the angry pounding his steps made as he headed to Josh’s room.

Josh narrows his eyes at him. “I haven’t talked to Ashley. I haven’t talked to her in years.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Chris tries not to raise his voice, he does, but he keeps seeing Ashley’s tear stricken face. “You told her she was second best. An easy fucking choice.”

“In regards to what?” Josh tucks the pen behind his ear, leaning back on his arms.

“An easy choice between her and you.”

Josh sits there, eyes moving as if thinking, and then they widen, dark with acknowledgement. The room is silent aside from Chris’ heavy breathing. He watches Josh sit up, arms folded in his lap, as he idly stares at the floor.

“You remember.” It’s not a question.

“Yeah. My memory is pretty good at things before the mountain.” Josh tilts his head up, chin tilted up. “I did say those things.”

Chris hoists Josh to his feet, fists bunched into the collar of the other’s shirt, and he’s so, so angry. Josh keeps a blank face, eyes glittering with thinly veiled amusement, steadying himself where he stands.

“Why, why would you say that to her? Ashley is great. She’s wonderful and nice and-“

“Safe?” Josh cocks an eyebrow at him.

Chris shakes him roughly. “Shut up, Josh.”

“Oh come on, man. Admit it. After everything that happened and me being mostly dead, Ashley was a safe haven for you. She was a beacon of fucking light. Someone mentally sound with no medications, no personality flaws besides being too damn nice.” Josh spits, sharp teeth bared. “Don’t fucking lie and say it wasn’t something you took into consideration because it was. After you saw my first panic attack, you decided then and there that you wanted fucking normal.”

Chris pushes him away, ripping his glasses off his face as he paces around Josh’s room. He throws them, the hard clack not enough to satisfy him. His hands are tingly, knuckles white. He wants to punch Josh in the face, wants to strangle him. Josh is sick, he reminds himself. He’s sick and needs help.

“You’re sick.” Chris mutters.

“Oh really? Didn't notice with all the fucking meds I’m on. Ive been on meds all my life, Chris. I’ve been sick. All. My. Life.” Josh snarls, suddenly in Chris’ space. “You knew that at the goddamn beginning. My face may be fucked up now, like a goddamn sideshow circus freak, but I’ve always been fucked up so don’t you dare tell me I’m sick when we both know that’s not really why you’re mad.”

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose, nostrils flaring. “Shut up, Josh.”

“Why, Cochise? Struck a nerve?” Josh purrs, silky and rich and Chris can’t breathe.

He’s backed into a corner, Josh is close to him, too damn close, and the room is so damn hot. Why did he wear so many layers? Chris struggles to exhale, shrugging off his first jacket. He can’t hear anything beyond the white noise in his ears, but he can see the flittering look of concern on Josh’s face. Josh is stepping back, seeming to realize he’s crossed some sort of boundary and he keeps backing away, a hand rubbing his arm but Chris is following, Chris is following and reaching for him and-

Chris crushes their mouths together, ignoring the small noise of protest, a hand curling around the base of Josh’s throat- teeth clattering soundlessly. Josh's response is immediate, lips parting and moving against Chris’, tilting his head to the side. Chris tries not to think of how perfect they fit together, bringing his other hand to cup the side of Josh’s face, tongue sliding inside the other’s mouth easily. He can feel the dull tips of pointed teeth, can feel the other’s throat vibrate under his thumb, a steady warm feeling that Chris realizes is purring. 

They part briefly, thin strings of saliva stretching between them and Josh leans in this time more insistent and desperate and he presses himself close to Chris, mouths moving together in slick harmony. His hand a vice grip on Chris’ shoulder, the quiet hammer of his heart beating like a frightened animal.

Chris feels them shifting, vaguely aware they're moving, but doesn’t dwell too much on it because Josh is nipping at his lips, tongue leaving a sizzling trail of heat wherever it touches. The edge of the bed hits the backs of his knees and he nearly falls backwards, Josh chuckling quietly as he moves forward to straddle his hips. He begins working on Chris’ second layer, another jacket, buttoned down, undisturbed by Chris tiny pecks to his face. Chris’ lips brush against the discolored scar and Josh tenses up, leaning back quickly.

His adam’s apple dips quickly as a small, embarrassed smile appears. “I forgot that was there.”

Chris pulls Josh closer, kissing him soundly. Again and again until the purring is back. 

"It’s not bad. Kinda cool actually.”

“Shut up, asshole.” Josh leans in again, pressing a soft kiss to Chris’ lips. He slides his fingers through Chris’ hair, bodies flushed close together. Chris holds him close, hands resting along the small of his back and he thinks of Ashley, angry and sad and- Chris sighs against Josh, breaking the kiss to press a small one to Josh’s forehead. He lingers there, eyes blurry from where his glasses are not.

"I was mad at you." Josh admits, smoothing his hands across Chris' shirt. "I was mad and hurt but I just felt more and more shitty about it because I'm your best friend, ya know? I have to support and help. Plan. But Ashley... She's a lot of things I'm not. A lot of good things. I said some shit things."

Chris bends his head down to look at his best friend. Josh isn't looking at him, mouth red and puffy. 

"You can tell her you're sorry."

"'Hey Ash, long time no see. Sorry about punching you in the face and making out with your boyfriend. Also sorry about saying mean things. Totes rude of me.'" Josh says in an overly friendly tone that makes Chris laugh.

"It's a start."

Josh rolls his eyes, chittering softly in the back of his throat. He meets Chris' gaze, a tiny sliver of hope in his face. Josh slips out of Chris' lap and onto the floor, padding around to where his phone is amongst the drawings. He tosses Chris the abandoned pair of glasses.

"'M hanging out with Sam in a few. Are you staying?"

"You wanna talk about our make out session?"

"Sure don't." Josh laughs, thumbs working rapidly over his phone screen. "Maybe later."

"Does this mean I'm breaking up with Ashley?" Chris asks.

Josh levels him with a look that reminds Chris of Emily . "Yes. You're breaking up with your fake high school girlfriend."

"Probably should have done that before hand." Chris rubs the back of his neck. "You gonna be my new new girlfriend?"

Josh doesn't answer, the tips of his ears reddening, and Chris guess that's as good as an answer as anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the other hand, Ashley i love you, you deserve so much better bby
> 
> I've read all your wonderful comments and I will work on replying super soon (cause i have a job that steadily kicks my ass). Thank you so much for reading. <33


	6. Pandora's Funbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss kiss fall in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late. ;-;

They don't talk about it. At all. Not even when Josh's hand brushes against his while they watch Nosferatsu or later when Sam is making them smoothies and Chris kisses Josh against bedroom door. They don't talk about it.

"You want to come over tonight?" Chris asks him, thumbing through Josh's old sketchbook. He's propped up on Josh's unused bed, deciding to set money aside to buy the pillows he's pushed back on. There is a section towards the end, past all the sketches of anatomy and landscapes, that's entirely Beth and Hannah. Each page is different, the twins smiling, the twins laughing, the twins alive and the pages begin to shift in mood until their faces aren't as recognizable and gradually Beth disappears from the drawings. Only Hannah remains, smiling with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Josh is sitting at the desk, bent over a worn notebook. He looks back at Chris, hand coming to rest under his chin. A fingers rests along the long scar on Josh's face, idly stroking ruined skin.

"At your house?" 

Chris closes the sketchbook and sets it down beside him. "Yeah. Just us."

Josh chews on the end of his pen, turning back to the notebook beneath him. He writes a few lines down.

"I don't know if it's a good idea." Josh admits, his voice quiet. 

Chris rips off a tiny corner of a page in the back. He curls it between his fingers, rounding the edges. Chris flicks it at the side of Josh's head. It bounces off his temple.

Josh turns to him, appearing vaguely amused.

"I have nightmares sometimes."

"I do too."

Josh adjusts in his seat, facing Chris. "I can't sleep for long periods of time."

"I sleep a maximum of 6 hours."

"Are we going to talk?"

Chris shakes his head. "We can play video games, watch movies. Make out."

Josh leans against the back of his chair, a smile slowly dragging itself across his face. He's in one of his old sweaters, the neck a little wider than it used to be. "That's kinda gay, bro."

Chris slides to the end of the bed, legs swinging over the edge. "What if I say no homo?"

Josh chuckles deep in his throat, a familiar old sound that makes Chris' heart race.

"I don't know still kinda gay."

Sam decides at that moment to pop in, a glass tucked in her elbow while she holds the other two. "What's gay?"

"You?" Josh asks innocently, taking the glass from Sam. 

"Har... Har. Okay but let's talk about you two and the eying thing." Sam points between them.

Chris raises a hand dramatically to his chest. "That's kinda gay, Sam."

"The gayest, bro. I agree."

They bump fists and Sam smacks Chris upside the head, a vein in her forehead twitching. Josh laughs, wheezing loudly when Sam points a finger at him.

"I'll smack you too, bird brain."

"Yes ma'am." Josh gives a small nod. His alarm startles him and he nearly topples out of his seat. He glances at the smoothie then at Sam.

"You're scary." 

Sam smirks at him, eyes following Josh as he hurries out the room. Her pointed gaze shifts, aiming at Chris almost immediately when the door shuts.

"I talked to Ashley."

Chris slumps forward, arms folded over his knees. 

"I haven't."

"What happened?" Sam asks, but her voice suggests she knows the answer. 

Chris blows into his fist, chest tight. "Josh happened. I can't fully explain the last events to occur."

"She says you guys are breaking up?"

Chris nods, rising to his feet. He wanders over to Josh's desk, brushing over neat handwriting. Bits of eraser speckle the surface, smears of lead against the edge of certain words. Chris feels her hand touch his shoulder, her forehead bumping against his back.

"She's not completely ignorant in the turn of events." Sam tells him. "I tried to tell her that it wouldn't work."

"Wasn't good enough for her?" Chris chuckles darkly.

"You aren't right for her. Not how you are with Josh. You two have always just," she searches for the word. "clicked together. Hannah seemed to think this was inevitable."

"I still did a dumb thing. If you asked me three years ago if I'd imagine myself cheating on Ashley with Josh I probably would've slapped you." Chris notices his name written in the corner of a covered sheet of paper. "Everything is different."

"Sure is. Not that I condone cheating or retaliation cheating."

"You're a good kid, Sam." Chris puts on his best dad voice and she laughs, shaking her head.

"I'm not that good. I have definitely thirsted after your girlfriend before today."

"Now you can thoroughly thirst, cleanse the thirst. Take my blessing and be well."

Sam snorts, eyes glittering. "Thanks, Chris."

She punches his arm softly, moving away. Chris tugs the paper from underneath the pile, Josh's notebook sliding forward along with other sheets of paper. His thumb smudges where his name is written as he holds the page. It's him. Drawn in dark charcoal lines with no shading, aside from areas where the lines bleed, all different angles, all sharp and blunt. It's a style Chris has never seen before, at least not in Josh's sketchbooks. Ways he's never seen himself before.

The click of the door knob forces him out of his stupor and he quickly shoves the sheet back under everything. Josh appears, leaning against the door way, glass gone.

"Mom said I could go... If I keep her updated, text her when I take my meds.." Josh trails off, eyes tired and worn and Chris thinks him getting out of the house might really be good for him.

Sam claps her hands. "Hey that's great. Go where? My place?"

"With me." Chris supplies, feeling his face go hot.

Sam's smirk is back and her eyebrows are raised and it's an awful, almost motherly acknowledgement. She packs things for Josh, who sits on the floor drowsily telling her where things are. 

Chris sits beside him, designated pill holder. It's a long plastic case, numbered black. There are three pills in most of the spaces, two in the corresponding spots. 

"I take these at 12." Josh points to the first three pills. "All at once. One glass of water. Then," he yawns softly. "These at 4. Then the last three at 10." 

"The last ones make you sleepy?" Chris points to the last two pills and Josh nods, reaching to grab Chris' hand. 

"I can't sleep. It's hard." Josh admits, voice low, entertaining their fingers. "Everything is hard. Sometimes... I wish they would've left me in the mines." 

Chris squeezes his hand. "It'll get better. I'll be here and Sam will be here. The others have been wanting to reach out but..."

"Just need some time, Cochise. " Josh murmurs, head resting on Chris' shoulder. He dozes off moments later, leaving Chris to watch Sam tuck neatly folded clothes into an old kanken. 

"Sometimes I think about if they never found him," Sam rolls up a pair of socks. "Sometimes I think about how I didn't go back. I think about the hesitance in Josh's eyes when we asked for the cable car key. His last lifeline, his last importance to us. And I feel awful, so awful. We found him wandering the mines, shouting at things we couldn't see and I knew then that Josh wasn't leaving with us but I wanted to live. I wanted everyone to go home."

Sam sits on the bed, eyes squeezed shut and her shoulders shake. "I should've gone back, I could've. But I didn't and that makes me a coward. We all didn't make it back."

Chris breathes into the silence, limbs heavy and he bites his knuckle until it's red and throbbing. 

"It's not just your fault, Sam. It was all of ours. You know that. Josh is... He's here now. We got a second chance."

"He's worse than he was before." Her voice is breaking, tears sliding down her face and Chris realizes this is the first time he's seen her cry. He wants to reach out and touch her. Through the window, there is a steady rain of snow.

"He's getting better. He's doing so well, Sam." Chris reminds her. "We just have to keep on him. We have to be better than we were."

Sam's head rises, nodding frantically as she shoves another pair of socks into the bag. It's nearly overfilled with clothing but Sam keeps fitting things inside it.

"You're right. I was just feeling sorry for myself."

"That's me. 80% of the time."

Sam chuckles, throat thick with feeling. "Shut up, Chris."

They wake Josh when she's done, bundling him up in a thick cardigan and scarf. Josh is hazy through it all, giggling when Chris tries to buckle him into the passenger seat. He holds Sam's hand a lot, telling her how great she is. Sam appears more grateful than she'd ever let on.

"Keep him close. Keep him safe. I have class tomorrow but I'll call, ok?" Sam claps Chris on the arm.

"Yes, mom.

"Shut up. I'm way too cool to be your mom." 

Chris agrees easily. "Seriously Sam. Thank you."

Her eyes soften, a light blush collecting on her cheeks. She rolls her eyes, scoffs and heads to her car, which is her way of being embarrassed and if it wasn't so cold out Chris thinks she might've punched him again.

Chris slides into the drivers seat, clicking his seatbelt into place and turning the key in the ignition. The car roars to life, lights flickering on. Chris checks Josh, curled in the seat next to him, mouth slack and drooling, and he pulls off after Sam. 

He keeps the radio low, an old Beastie Boys album playing, gaze focused on the road and the way his lights cut through the dark. Sam's lights glow faintly in the distance before disappearing down another road.

The drive is short considering it's an hours drive but Chris can't find himself complaining as he hoists Josh's pack onto his shoulder. He gently prods Josh awake, analyzing the slow way the other comes too. First it's in his body, the limp posture becomes frigid, then it's the face that scrunches into wordless breaths and finally the eyes, the narrow slits slowly assessing the surrounding before relaxing completely when they land on Chris.

Josh rubs his eyes. "We here?"

"Yeah, man. Do you need help? Want me to carry you?" Chris jokes, laughing at the glare he receives.

"'M not a baby, Cochise." Josh stretches widely, part of his scarf hooked behind his ear. He slips out the car, surveying their environment as he hobbles after Chris. Keys in hand, Chris unlocks his door, stepping aside. He ushers Josh in, who hesitates. 

"Your apartment is different." Josh says, peering around the small living area. He kicks off his shoes, bare feet wiggling on the carpet before he disappears around the corner. Chris can hear the opening and closing of cabinets, then the fridge. He hears a couple of doors doing the same before Josh reappears in front of him.

"Can we watch a movie?"

Chris hands him his bag and shrugs out of his jacket. He nods wordlessly, hanging the garment on one of the empty racks nailed to the wall. Chris takes off another jacket, then a vest before he's only in a light grey long sleeve shirt with another shirt underneath. Josh smirks at him.

"You're still the same too." His words are warm, coating Chris' insides like honey. "We can watch Star Wars if you want. We always watch scary movies at my house."

Chris toes off his boots. "We can watch whatever. I'll probably fall asleep."

Josh hums, trailing after Chris into the living room. He tugs his scarf off with each step, hanging it over the couch as he plops down on it. Chris flicks on the tv, sinking down beside him. He immediately goes to Netflix, looking at his list of recommended titles before selecting Pontypool which earns a curious look from Josh. He shrugs in response.

Chris watches for the first fifteen minutes, eye lids drooping slightly every so often. His head feels heavy, rolling against the couch as he tries to wake up. Josh shifts beside him. Chris turns to ask 'what's up' but Josh is sliding into his lap, chest eye level with Chris' face as he adjusts. Chris hardly registers he's being kissed until a couple seconds into it. 

He reaches up, sliding his hand underneath Josh's sweater, along the expanse of his back, the other coming to rest on the back of his neck and suddenly Chris is more awake than he was before. Josh's mouth is hot against his- scorching and needing and stroking languid movements as hands cup Chris' face. He angles his hips, pressing down with hard roll and Chris gasps into Josh's mouth, pressing down on his spine.

"You're good at that." Chris breathes, noses brushing and they're kissing again, limbs tangling as they shift on the couch. Josh is beneath him, lips wet and inviting. He gives Chris a questioning look.

"The hip thing."

"The hip thing." Josh repeats, mouth twitching in amusement. "I'm good at a lot of things. Right now, currently, making out is one of them."

"Put it on your resume." Chris snorts, bending down to capture Josh's lips again. He snakes a hand back under the other's sweater, touching every bit of skin he can feel, settling in between his open legs. It's a bit awkward as Chris' couch really isn't that big but Josh doesn't seem to mind being crooked in weird angles. 

"Think I'll be suckin' a lot dicks when I go back to the real world?" Josh chuckles against him, biting at Chris' chin. His tongue flickers out, dry and rough and it's sliding along his ear in a way that makes Chris' entire body shudder.

"Better be sucking my dick." Chris responds easily, grinding down, Josh's thin sweats doing nothing to hide his erection. Josh hisses, nails biting into the side of Chris' neck and their kisses become more urgent, more teeth than lip.

"That's kinda gay, Cochise."

"No homo, bro."

Everything feels good and easy and right until Chris tries to take Josh's sweater off. The other tenses immediately, a shaky gasp escaping his lips. Josh whimpers, hands fisting into the collar of Chris' shirt and he's shaking his head. His eyes are round with fear, scrambling to sit up. Chris releases him, slinking back, arms raised to his head as he backs off. Josh curls against the arm of the couch, body wound up tightly and he's wrapping his arms around himself.

"I-I'm sorry. I can't. Chris. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

His voice is small, full of regret and longing and when Chris reaches out to touch him, Josh bursts into tears. 

"I-I-I'm sorry I can't. I can't." He whimpers, allowing Chris to hold him. Josh shakes against him, crying softly into the sleeve of Chris' shirt while Chris whispers softly to him.

"This is okay. This is fine. We don't have to do anything. This is fine, Josh." Chris repeats over and over until Josh tires himself out. His eyes are red and puffy when Chris carries him to his bedroom. Chris sets him on the bed, handing him a shirt from Josh's bag to change into. He only does when Chris turns around.

"I'm sorry." Josh says softly, fingers fiddling with the end of his shirt. He doesn't look at Chris, only stares at the floor, at his feet. 

"It's okay." Chris replies, kneeling down in front of him. He grasps the other's chin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Josh kisses back, the confidence from earlier missing but it's meek and hesitant and good enough for Chris. 

"You're not upset?"

"Nope, in fact I'm really tired. There's this hot guy in my room so I need to remove all my layers before I combust." Chris jokes, shedding out of his clothes. 

Josh chitters behind him. "Must be Idris Elba."

"Nah, someone a bit smaller, bit lighter. Pretty cute. I'll introduce you guys." Chris pulls on an old shirt from high school and a pair of basketball shorts. He ushers Josh inside the covers, following shortly behind. 

"That's gay, man. You're overly flirtatious. Is this how you are with all your girlfriends?" Josh presses their foreheads together, searching underneath the blankets for Chris' hand.

"Says the guy holding my hand."

"Shut up, asshole."

Chris kisses him softly. "Plus my exes would say I'm a scholar at flirting."

Josh laughs at that. "Did they write yelp reviews too?"

Chris pinches Josh's palm but that only makes Josh laugh harder. He smiles to himself in the darkness, Josh's hand in his, his laughter lighting up the room.

He's okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting from my phone. This is so weird.


	7. Bathtub Confessional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flashback no one asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He deserves to get better

He imagines somewhere on a distant horizon Hannah waits for him. Her body bathed in the setting sun, hair the color of the deepest part of space. He imagines in that same somewhere, Beth stares down at them, watching as Hannah and Josh become consumed by the same monster.

His first night awake is hell. He's starving but the doctors refuse to let him eat. The IV drip isn't near enough. It keeps his veins dry, insides screaming it's not the right thing. Josh doesn't know what any of it means but when he bites off a nurses fingers, his body preens and he knows something is wrong. 

The doctors keep him restrained at that point, upping his medicine until he's pliant. Josh tries to be good, tries so hard but he's so damn hungry. Sometimes he'll see Hannah or Beth but never together anymore. It's wrong and awful and he can't sleep until they're sticking needles deep in his veins. 

He wants to go home, to see Sam or Chris or anyone but he can't.

"You hurt a lot of people, Josh." His doctor tells him, the pin on her coat reads 'Cooper'.

She taps on her pen on the clipboard she's holding, eyes soft and patient behind her narrow glasses. Josh doesn't look at her, he just stares at the wall across from, tired and unfeeling. He can't remember anything, only impressions of feelings he doesn't understand. Someone left him, someone left him cold and dying and Josh thinks he died. But he's here now and so, so hungry.

"Where's my mom?"

"Mrs. Washington won't be able to see you until we are sure you won't hurt anyone else."

"I'm not hurting you." Josh supplies, unable to recognize his own voice. He tries to click his tongue, sharp teeth dragging along the rough skin and he tastes blood. Josh's throat feels sick, throat coating in a coppery taste and his insides rumble because it's so close to what he needs. Josh tries to move his arms, the soft cuffs around his wrists respond immediately.

Josh looks at Dr. Cooper reading the alarm on her face as she reaches for him. He can see the blood in her face and he wants it, he wants, wants, wants it so bad. Josh hardly registers the spike in his heart rate or the nurses flood into the room. Behind them he sees Hannah, body broken and grey. Her mouth covered in blood and gore and she's crying.

"You have to listen to the doctors, Josh."

They're turning him over on his side and Hannah disappears from his vision. Bile burns in his throat, stomach lurching painfully, that needy feeling gone, and he's vomiting into a bin. There's a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his back.

They wipe his mouth before hands coax it open. He allows it, eyes searching for Hannah in the bright room. 

"You'll need stitches." Dr. Cooper's voice rings through his head, "but your body is rejecting the blood. That's a good sign. You're doing so good, Josh."

Josh doesn't understand what she's saying and he's so tired but he needs to know. Needs to know why his body doesn't feel right, why the blood in her skin sang to him and why it's all he thinks about. Josh is vomiting again, bent over the side of his bed. 

"We'll up the IV dosage."

He wakes up alone, the room quiet, barely illuminated by a dim light in the corner. Josh notices someone sitting beside his bed, cast in deep shadows. They move slowly, reaching out to take his hand when Josh sits up. 

"You're progressing."

It's Beth, her hand cold against his. He can't see her face but he can smell her, daffodils and spring and like home. His body aches, trying to speak but his jaw refuses to work. Everything hurts. Beth squeezes his hand.

"You did so good. For us. But it's time to get better." Beth says, "you're all mom and dad have left. We're gone, Josh."

Josh chokes back a sob, struggling against the restraints and he wants to tell her to wait, to hand on and just listen to him. Beth shushes him.

"Josh. You'll never see us again. But you have to get better."

Her grip is tight around his hand, squeezing until the small bones shift painfully. 

"No." Josh croaks, eyes frantically searching for her face. He can only see her hand, pale and cold and the rest is a blackness he can't touch. The sparkle of her smile flashes before his eyes and her hand is gone.

"You did good by us, Joshy. So, so good."

And she's gone. He wants to scream, wants to grab hold of her and hold on tight. His mouth tastes like ash, his insides burn. But Beth is gone and he's alone in his hospital room. Josh wheezes, heart hammering in his chest and he's fighting the restraints. There's a ringing in his ears, sharp and loud and he just wants her back. The machines around him beep rapidly, the sounds of doors slamming open. He has one hand out of the cuffs by the time the nurses arrive. He's almost free, fingers slipping, coated a thick red but they're on him, crowding him back to bed and he's screaming.

The glimmer of a needle shines in the corner of his eyes and Hannah is standing in the corner. 

"Listen to Beth, Josh. Listen to the doctor."

She presses a finger to her lips, skin rotting and grey.

"Hannah!" Josh reaches for her. "Hannah, please! Don't leave!"

The nurses are relentless in holding him down, pressing the needle deep into his skin. The room fades gray, suspended in space and there are stars. Hannah isn't there. Josh slides along nothingness, drifting along empty insides that feel warm and moist.

When he wakes again, the sun shines through an open window and the restraints are gone. Josh stares at his lap, hands resting on the tops of his thighs covered in red, angry scars and teeth marks. He clenches and unclenches his fist. Josh takes the room in, decorated plainly with dark blue. He notices his dad sitting in a chair beside the bed, eyes closed and his chest rises and falls with a deep snore.

As if sensing Josh's stare, Bob startles awake, knees bumping against the side of the bed. His eyes are wide and frowning and he's never seemed so worn as if someone took his skin and stretched it too far. Bob eyes land on Josh, a wide smile spreading across his face. 

"Hey kiddo. How are you feeling?"

Josh swallows, giving a small shrug. Bob takes his hand, rough palms sliding against his skin. Josh appreciates the gesture, sighing heavily. 

"The doctors said you've improved significantly. It's been three months since the last episode. They said the exorcism coupled with treatments helped significantly."

Josh frowns confused. "What? I had an episode last night."

Bob shakes his head. "You might have some memory loss, you've been lucid for five months but we tried everything the first month. We had some help the second. It'll come back to you."

Josh wasn't sure he wanted it to come back. He was possessed? He had an exorcism? He stares at the wall, mind processing the white spaces of his mind. Josh finds nothing besides waking up in a pool of vomit and waking up again in a hospital bed restrained.

"I can't see them anymore?"

Bob squeezes his hand. "Hannah and Beth? The medication helps with that."

Josh wants to argue but he doesn't want the answer he knows is there. "They're gone?"

"I'm sorry, Josh." Bob's voice cracks.

Josh places a hand over his mouth, lips trembling and his eyes squeeze shut. Small tremors grind against his spine until they settle along his gut. A small sob escapes his throat, hot tears slipping down his cheeks. Bob stands, pulling Josh into his arms. He smoothes a hand over his son's hair, whispering over and over how sorry he is as Josh sobs into his chest.

The hospital discharges him the following week after various test involving blood and animals and volunteer patients. Josh isn't sure what they want but him staring blankly at a pair of rabbits for an hour while sitting in a chair doing nothing seems to be just what they wanted. He asks to see the police reports on he drive home. Bob allows it, Malia chatting excitedly from the passenger seat.

Josh tunes her out, flipping through the reports. He reads interviews from Mike and Jess and everyone up on Mt. Washington. It's a long story that all ends with Josh realizing he had a psychotic break and tried to kill his friends. He cries quietly when he reads Sam's report then Chris'. Josh reads them over and over until the words burn into his mind. He killed someone. He almost killed Jessica. He almost killed all of them.

His room is the same, bed neat, windows open wide and he hates it. Everything is the same and pristine and Josh finds the plans to his elaborate revenge prank. He burns them on the patio to his room before ripping the sheets off his beds and punching his mirror. Josh keeps the windows closed, the sun burning his eyes and he cries a lot the first couple of days.

He showers in the dark at first unable to look at his protruding ribs and the scars that wrap around his chest like age old wounds. The nasty ones around his belly are self inflicted. They said when they found him in the mines and brought him to the hospital, he had tried to eat his own insides. They kept him drugged with a muzzle for three weeks. The scars match the ones on his face. 

Josh doesn't leave his room, except for his medications because it's what his sisters wanted. Eating makes him sick. The taste of meat is sour and too familiar to whatever his brain keeps blocking out. He throws up everything until he refuses to eat at all. Malia tries salads then smoothies until Josh manages to eat large bowls of fruit. She keeps supplying heaps upon heaps of vegetables and Josh actually starts to try.

His parents offer to fix his facial scars completely as his father knew a great plastic surgeon but Josh declined, guilt bubbling through his mind at all the money the Washington's had already spent on him. He settles on stitching up the long scar that stops under his eye while patching the rest. Josh doesn't mind the discoloration because he looks more human now.

Josh still hates himself.

Malia comes into his room a lot, curling around him when she finds him under his bed, crying. Josh welcomes her warmth whenever she joins him.

"We love you. Your sisters love you." Malia whispers. "Whenever you're ready, we will be here."

Josh being ready is a month later when he's developed a routine. He helps his dad by editing scripts and studying old movies while keeping old notebooks for writing of his own. Josh being ready feels a lot like acceptance and goodbye

And it's when he's ready that Malia makes the first call to Chris. He listens from the stairwell as she paces in her study from upstairs, voice light and hopeful. Josh hates it, hates how hopeful it makes him. But Chris comes and stays and so does Sam.

It feels like fresh air.


	8. Trial Run

The previous nightmare filled months that plagued their tiny group seemed to have no equal when it came to Josh's nightmares. Rather than the quiet trembling of Ashley, the hard punches Mike would land in his sleep; instead of cries and insomnia, it was thrashing, it was garbled screams. It was Josh freezing up in his sleep, mouth twisted around inhumane whines.

Having Josh in his apartment is different. It's him waking up to blistering heat in his sides because Josh is glued to him. It's having to hold him close with each violent tremble that racks through Josh's body. It's having bite marks in his shoulder so deep they draw blood and Josh crying because he didn't mean to and Chris can see the fine lines of exhaustion in the others face. Chris understands. He does. So if he holds Josh a bit tighter when they finally manage to go back to sleep, Josh doesn't say anything. 

Josh in his apartment is strange. It's weird and completely throws him off. Chris is used to waking up last, pans clanking together in the kitchen. He's used to Ashley standing in her underwear and dancing badly to the Yeah Yeahs in the living room as the bacon burns. Instead the apartment is quiet and Josh is curled into his side, breathing deeply. 

Chris sits up slowly, glasses crooked on his face and yawns. Josh stirs beside him then rolls over, taking the blanket with him. He murmurs sleepily before a soft snore floats up through the pile. The temptation to go back to sleep rests heavy in Chris' mind until he checks his phone. There are two messages on the screen, one from Ashley, the other from Mike.

It's barely 10:30, close to Josh's first dosage. So Chris slides out of bed and pulling on an abandoned sweater over his other two layers. He tidies up the room a bit, adjusting his glasses and tossing random articles of clothing into the basket in the corner. Josh is still asleep when he slips out of the room. 

He opens the message from Mike first.

From: Mike Wazowski  
Hey bro.  
Haven't talked n a while  
Hw r ya?

From: Christopher Robin  
Pretty good, man.  
You? Em says you guys have dogs 

Chris pries the fridge open, assessing the contents. There is an opened bottle of woodchuck, a cartoon of eggs and a bag of spinach. Chris closes the door.

From: Mike Wazowski  
They hate me.

(...)

From: Mike Wazowski  
Heard they found Josh?

From: Christopher Robin  
Yep. He's with me now.  
Snoring like a log.

Mike doesn't respond. 

Chris sets his phone in the docking station on the kitchen table, closing the bedroom door behind him. He turns the volume down low, shuffling all the songs he has by the Pixies. The steady strum of a guitar floats through the speakers.

Chris knows that Josh has to eat with his medication so he sets about making breakfast. Upon opening his fridge again Chris realizes he has nothing Josh can eat. Realistically he has nothing normal people eat either. He doesn't know how Ashley managed to survive the couple of weeks she would stay.

Chris groans, pulling his phone out of the dock. He sees another message from Ashley. A knock at the door follows shortly after. Chris eyes the closed bedroom door before making his way to the front door. He doesn't bother looking through the peep hole immediately opening the door when he reaches it.

Ashley is standing in his doorway in a dark blue dress that stops at her knees. She's in the long sweater cardigan Chris bought her a few months ago. Her hair is a few shades darker than he's ever seen it, more red.

"Hey." Ashley says, giving him a small smile.

"Hey." Chris replies. 

They stand there awkwardly, in Chris' doorway, unable to meet each other's gaze. Ashley's face says she doesn't know why she came.

"Want to go grocery shopping with me?" Chris reaches for his jacket, ignoring the fact that he's still in basketball shorts. He tugs on a pair of black vans he realizes are Josh's and swipes his wallet and keys from the small basket on the corner table.

"Um, okay. Sure." Ashley nods.

Chris locks his apartment door, shooting Josh a quick text before walking to where his car is parked. Ashley rounds to the passenger seat, entering with a practiced ease. She adjusts the seat when Chris climbs in, starting the car.

"How have you been?" Ashley inquires, voice polite. 

"I've been okay." He doesn't say good like he wants to. "You?"

"Okay." She says. "Why are you going grocery shopping?"

Chris weighs his options. Ashley hasn't brought up their last conversation or Josh but he doesn't know if telling her he truth would be too upsetting.

"Why did you drop by?" Chris asks instead, glancing at her.

She's pulling at the sleeves of her cardigan, eyes downcast. Dark red strands fall into her face. "To go grocery shopping."

"Ready to watch me shop for all the vegetables." Chris jokes.

Ashley shakes her head, chuckling softly. "You never buy groceries, Chris."

"I do now, son. Gotta up the greens." Chris pumps the horn. It honks weakly.

Ashley is laughing, louder this time and it's so bright it makes Chris' heart ache. She tucks a lock of hair behind her, looking at him with her amused smile.

"Okay, Chris. Let's get groceries."

Chris sees the grocery store coming up, careful to watch for the teenagers jaywalking. He parks near the front beside a black minivan with the doors open. A mother is tickling her child in the backseat. His squeals bounce off of Chris' window. 

"Kids kinda loud." Ashley giggles.

Chris brushes the edge of his nose. "Knows a cool guy when he sees one."

"Yeah cause you're so cool." Ashley smirks, climbing out the car.

Chris follows after her, mimicking what she said. He winks at the kid, striding up behind Ashley who's walking quickly inside. 

"Do you have a list?" Ashley asks, taking a cart from the slot. She sets her bag in the carrier, eying Chris expectantly. 

Chris pulls out his phone, noticing there are no missed calls or texts. He googles 'staples of a vegan kitchen'. It provides enough results that have his brain churning. He texts Sam. 

It's 11.

"Okay, Sam says Jo- She says tofu is good for scrambled eggs."

Ashley perks up at the mention of Sam's name but she's frowning. "Scrambled eggs?"

But Chris is hurrying inside, dragging the front of the car with him as he sets a timer. Ashley hurries along side him, nodding at different vegetables he's ranting off. 

By the time Chris is done analyzing Sam's list from hell, Ashley has already filled half the cart with a variety of vegetables he doesn't recognize.

"What is this?" Chris pokes an oddly shaped purple vegetable. Ashley smacks his hand with a bag of carrots she's holding.

"An eggplant."

"A who? Okay never mind I have fifteen minutes. We need tofu."

Ashley points to three square containers with colorful designs.

"Tofurky bacon?"

Ashley holds up a package of weird shaped bacon. "This is a better brand."

"Strawberries-" Ashley points to the container next to her bag, "apples-", Ashley lifts a bag that says HoneyCrisp in bold, "avocados? Bananas? Enough to freeze? I don't have a blender. Why are there so many bananas?!"

There are four bundles of five bananas. Ashley leans against the cart, watching Chris go through the list. A faint smile plays on her lips.

"This is for Josh isn't it?"

Chris looks up. Her gaze is sad, a bitter acceptance sitting at the edges. Ashley straightens, combing her hair over one shoulder. She begins checking her ends for splits, pulling the ones she finds apart. Chris grabs her hand.

"I was thinking we'd stay together. That this," Ashley scoffs. "This thing would just breeze over and it'd become a blip in our relationship. Three years later it'd still be a blip but a funny one we could laugh at."

She smiles sadly. "It's not going to be a blip is it?"

Chris releases her hand, pulling her into a tight hug. She buries her face in his chest, fingers digging into his shirt. Her shoulders give a small bounce before they still, ting tremors breaking through every so often. Chris holds her close, lingering in the smell of her shampoo and cherries. He wishes this was easier. But it'd only be that way if they all didn't make it out of the mines.

"I'm sorry, Ash. I am." He whispers, kissing the side of her head. She's nodding against him, breath hitching and she holds onto him, mouthing each quiet sob into his shirt. People are staring, from the line at the deli and passerbys but they avert their eyes when Chris meets their gaze, ever polite.

Ashley stays pressed against him two beats longer before moving away, cheeks red and blotchy but she's giving him a smile and two thumbs up. "Josh better take care of you."

"Think you can take him?"

"He's never seen a white girl during pumpkin season." Ashley jokes, teary eyed and sniffling.

Chris hands her a crumpled napkin from his jacket pocket after checking it for nastiness. Ashley blows her nose. 

"And you better take care of him, Chrispher."

Chris holds up his hands. "Yes ma'am."

The rest of their grocery adventure goes smoothly with Chris occasionally making jokes that make her cringe but she doesn't cry anymore for now. It feels like it could work, the friendship between them after its done healing. 

"I'd say I'd help you but Sam told me you had a visitor so I won't." Ashley pats the hood of his car.

"You and Sam talk to much. You're gossips." Chris assesses the six bags in his trunk then turns to his apartment door. He can probably make it in one trip. 

"Birds of a feather." Ashley sings, twirling her car keys on her finger.

"Shut up. Doesn't Sam have a yoga class to invite you to? Maybe a little child's pose practice?"

Ashley's face turns scarlet. "Shut up, Chris! I'm leaving. Bye."

And it shouldn't feel this easy. To end their relationship, to be able to joke so readily and easily but Chris figures he picked one hell of an ex girlfriend to have and Josh was right, she's too nice for her own good.

"It was a joke!" But Ashley is flicking him off from her beetle, face still very red. She leaves him to his groceries, sticking a tongue out at him when she drives by. Chris reminds himself to send her a set of Pepe the frog memes.

It's 11:47 by the time Chris has everything put away, 11:50 by the time he pokes his head in on Josh, who sleeps on undisturbed and buried in blankets. Chris sets aside a glass of water on the bed stand, propping open the pill section labeled '12' and then sets to waking Josh up at 11:58, flicking the tip of his nose. Josh waves him off.

Chris slides his hands underneath the blanket, finding the opening where Josh's bare stomach is, the other's shirt bunched up. Chris grins widely preparing to tickle his sleeping guest before he feels it. It's a leathery patch of skin, an immediate difference between the rest of Josh's body. Puckered wounds surround the area around his belly button, tiny enough that he almost missed them. Chris wants to look, wants to see but he remembers Josh's face the night before, full of fear and disgust and self hate.

Chris settles for more flicking until Josh's alarm goes off. Josh whines in the back of his throat, a hand coming out of the blankets to push at Chris' face. 

"Can't be waking me up like this. Isn't healthy." Josh mumbles, one eye squinting open.

"I made you food. Even have a big glass of water."

Josh sits up slowly, hair pointing in various directions. He checks his phone, undisturbed by the mass of covers draped over him. 

"What kind of food?"

"Organic bird feed. Fresh from the farm." Chris hands him the three pills from the case along with a glass of water. 

Josh groans, popping them into his mouth.

"You sound like Sam." He says, gulping down the large glass. "Don't look like Sam though. Not pretty enough."

Chris punches his shoulder. "Come eat, dick."

Josh trails after him, holding the covers over his shoulders like a cape. He slides into an empty chair, perking up at the sight of Chris' iPod radio. Josh plugs his phone up as Chris sets a plate in front of him. The Cure plays through the speakers. 

"You actually made food." Josh says surprise evident in his voice.

Chris cooks, sometimes, occasionally, mostly for Ashley if she's over but he usually orders take out. Today Chris cooked. He cooked faux bacon and made tofu scramble with peppers and spinach. He even topped that shit with avocado slices. And if he snapped a pick for Sam that's Chris' own business.

Chris watches Josh eat, head resting on his arms. He wipes Josh's mouth with a napkin when the other smears grease on it. Josh gives him a funny look.

"You tryna court me, Cochise?"

"I don't know. 's working?"

Josh leans against the kitchen table, a piece of not-bacon in his fingers. He bumps his head against Chris' arm, soft chittering low in his throat. "Maybe."

Chris snorts around a smile, checking his phone again.

From: Mike Wazowski  
Is he mad?  
That.. We left?

From: Christopher Robin  
He doesn't remember  
He doesn't remember anything.

Chris studies Josh, watching the way he swallows down his food like its the last thing he'll eat. Josh notices his stare, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"You're being a freak, bro. We should order pizza later. Have a sleep over."

"Yeah man, whatever you want."

Chris would do anything to keep him smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so great and wonderful. <3


	9. Strawberries in Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keep your chin up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its great that you guys like my story, enough to read it and leave kudos and comments. It's such a great, amazing feeling. Thank you so much!
> 
> [The cutest drawing ever of bird man](http://superwendibros.tumblr.com/post/132520638585/i-told-flowerkingofangmar-that-i-would-do-some). Thank you so much, Soro <3
> 
>  
> 
> Inserts high pitch manly scream.  
> [ By the lovely danji-doodle](http://danji-doodle.tumblr.com/post/132077310441/exorjoshclimbing-class-fic-dislocated-by)

Chris waits outside his apartment, dutifully watching the door for any movement. He waits because Josh asked him to. His hands are tucked into the pockets of the thick jacket he wears, pleased despite the drop in temperature. 

He's pleased because he's finally managed to convince Josh to venture into society, er the mall but it's close enough. Plus Josh needs clothes that actually fit him. Josh fumbles out the door a second later, surgical mask in place, wearing one of Chris old sweatshirts. It hangs loosely on him, arms a bit too long. Chris puffs his cheeks, resisting all urges to take a picture. Josh eyes him miserably.

"Your clothes don't fit."

"Which is why we are going shopping." Chris supplies, edging Josh towards his car. Josh grumbles the whole way but allows himself to be ushered into the car. He buckles his seat belt as Chris rounds the car and steps inside.

"Are we going to the mall?" Josh inquires as Chris steers out of his parking space.

Chris nods. "Yeah. It'll be okay though. It's Monday and people are at work."

"No crowds."

"No crowds." Chris repeats, reaching out to take Josh's hand. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. "We can turn back if you want. Even if we're half way there or already parked and inside, we can go back."

Josh doesn't respond, just holds Chris' hand tighter as he stares out the window. A thin layer of snow has taken over the area, blinking pearl white sparkles every so often. Chris tires of it, of snow, sometimes it reminds him too much of a year ago, too much of the mountain but Josh is looking at it in wonder.

"You wanna play some of your bad music. My AUX cable is around here somewhere."

Josh rolls his eyes. "Right cause you're the epitome of good music."

"Abba? Really Josh?"

"Classic. Better than the fucking Beatles." Josh responds easily, hooking is phone up to the cord. He scrolls for a moment before playing a song Chris doesn't recognize. It's airy, light, the singers voice whispy as he sings in harmony with other voices and Chris feels as though they're taking a drive too far from home.

Josh hums softly in tune, tiny little rumblings that beat from his chest and it makes Chris hold his hand tighter. He sometimes thinks this is all a sick dream he's created for himself and Josh is lying dead and forgotten at the bottom of the mines or hunting down elk in the snow wearing red and bone and he's wild and screeching to the moon. This reality feels so temporary, it aches. 

"You okay?" Josh touches his shoulder lightly.

Chris breathes out hard through his nose, his teeth grinding down against one another. He slows to a stop, the yellow light blinking red as they reach the intersection. Chris reaches over without thinking, tugging down the surgical mask and they're kissing, soft and easy and Josh is warm against him, warm and alive.

"You're alive. I'm so happy you're alive." Chris whispers kissing Josh again and again until the car behind them honks because the light is green.

Josh stares at him in awe, surgical mask bunched around his chin, sharp little teeth gleaming back at him. Chris continues driving, butterflies beating into his stomach as he watches Josh smile privately out of the corner of his eye, face a dark shade of red. Josh straightens out his mask, searching for another song. 

It's fucking Abba. Specifically Mama Mia but Chris can't find it within himself to be upset because Josh is nudging him in the side, snickering. Chris sighs loudly, rolling his eyes dramatically as he begins to sing along.

"One more look and I forget everything, whooooooooh!" Chris shouts suddenly and Josh is laughing beside him.

"Mama Mia! Here I go again, my, my how could how I resist you?!" Chris makes his voice higher than the music, singing off tune.

Josh punches his arm. "You're ruining Abba!"

"Mama Mia! Does it show again?! My my just how much I've missed you?!"

Josh doesn't change the song, eyes crinkling in the corners and Chris wonders what kind of face he's making. He sings until they're in the mall parking lot, loudly and bad but Josh never stops playing Abba.

"You're awful. You've ruined Abba. How dare you." Josh jokes, taking off his seatbelt. 

"It's how I pick up the ladies. Make fun of Abba." Chris parks near the front.

"No wonder you were single throughout high school." 

Chris places a hand over his chest, faux look of betrayal on his face. "Bro!"

"Don't insult Abba. Maybe with your next girlfriend who will be lame."

Chris sends him a pointed look. "You're my next girlfriend."

"I'm not a girl, bro." Josh mumbles, stumbling out the car. Chris follows after him, smiling widely when Josh glares at him. Chris clears his throat.

"But seriously. Are you okay? Do you want to go back?"

Josh shifts from one foot to the other, body wound up tight and he's nervously eying the mall opening across the street. The surgical mask creases before smoothing out.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Wanna hold my hand?" 

"Gay." Josh retorts but he still takes Chris' offered hand with little encouragement. He walks closely behind Chris, staring warily at every person they pass. Chris tries to remember clothing store Josh likes but all he can remember is going into places Hannah and Beth liked. 

"Wanna go to H&M?"

Josh gives a noncommittal shrug but his eyes linger when they walk by American Apparel. Chris slows to a stop, noticing a couple of people staring when they pass. He can see them assessing Josh, how thin he is, the dark shadows that linger under his eyes, the surgical mask. Chris hovers over Josh, startling the other out of whatever stupor he'd fallen into. Chris blocks out the onlookers field of vision as he ushers Josh inside AA.

"Welcome! Let us know if you need anything." A girl stands at the counter, arms covered in sweaters. She sends them a curt smile as she begins restocking shelves.

Chris follows Josh to a rack of sweaters. They're plain, solid colors that are soft on the inside. Josh grabs three of them, each a dull shade darker than the last. He ignores all the plaid button ups he would've worn before, sticking to dark, unnoticeable colors. 

"Want me to come with you?"

Chris stands beside him as the girl from the counter unlocks one of the dressing rooms. Josh shakes his head, eyes downcast as the girl moves past them. 

"I'll be right outside then, alright."

"Okay" is all Josh says, closing the door behind him. In this moment Chris now understands how his mom must've felt when he dragged her to stores he likes, leaving her waiting outside the dressing room. This is his life. Designated dad. Chris smiles to himself.

The girl from the counter is eying him curiously, bent over a magazine.

"Not your style?" She asks.

Chris checks the store to see if she's speaking to anyone else before looking at her. She's pretty, eyebrows straight like her small bangs. Her hair reminds him of Emily, long and dark. 

"Not really."

"Well you're a good boyfriend then. I'd love to drag Jacob around to stores I like but he'd have a cow."

Chris feels his face heat up. "Oh he's- we're-" he huffs and she giggles softly. 

Technically they still hadn't talked about it, technically but they kissed a lot. Chris worries his bottom lip. He doesn't know how this shit works.

"I guess we are."

"Then you're a good boyfriend." She repeats, turning back to her magazine with a smile. The door cracks open and Chris walks up to the small open space. Josh is leaning against the door, surgical mask gone and he's letting the door rest on Chris' shoulder before he steps back.

Josh is in a navy shirt coupled with a slouchy cardigan that looks like it's comfortable but probably cost a lot. His jeans actually fit, legs wrapped in tight denim. Chris whistles. 

Josh rolls his eyes. "So? Good?"

"Yeah, man. Looks good."

Josh turns on the balls of his feet, eying himself in the mirror. He assesses himself closely, dark eyes dragging along his small frame. Chris isn't sure what he finds but Josh's shoulders slump a bit and he's trying to push Chris out. 

Chris grasps his wrists, grip light as he holds Josh still. He sneaks a glance at the girl at the counter, grateful to see she's pointedly ignoring them. Chris steps inside, crowding Josh into the small space.

"It doesn't look good." Josh's voice shakes. His hands squeeze tightly into fists, appearing defeated and small. "This is dumb."

"It's not dumb." Chris tells him, sitting him down on the small bench in the dressing room. "It's important, Josh. You're getting better, you look better."

"I look sick, Chris."

"No, Josh. You look tired. You look like someone who is trying. Someone who is picking up where he left off." 

Josh refuses to look at him, staring intently at a spot on the floor. Chris bends down in front of him, hands coming to rest on the other's knees. He searches Josh's face for acknowledgement but he can only find rejection.

"Josh, you are sick. But you're trying and you've gotten so much better. You deserve to dress how you want and to buy whatever and to be happy. Josh, you deserve to live."

Josh's eyes glass over, bottom lip tugged into teeth and Josh is crying softly. He presses a hand into Chris' shoulder, hand twisting into the fabric of his jacket. Chris wipes the tears with his thumb, wishing he had something else to offer, anything else. Josh hiccups, shooing Chris' hands away. He gives a half heart laugh.

"Stop it, man."

"Shut up and let me love you." Chris wipes Josh's face with his sleeve ignoring the small muffled protests.

"Get out so I can change, bro."

"Fine but don't bitch when you buy the wrong shade for your eyes."

Josh face disappears behind his hands. "You are gay. Leave."

"Only for you, bro." Chris remarks, stepping out of the fitting room. He leans against the door, listening to the soft shuffling of clothes on the other side. The girl at the counter sends him a knowing look. Chris absolutely does not blush especially when they're checking out. Josh isn't looking at him. 

"You find everything okay?" She's staring, staring at Josh.

He nods, shifting uncomfortably. "Yeah, thanks."

The girl rings up a couple of shirts, the slouchy cardigan, two more cardigans, two pairs of pants, eight sweaters, four more shirts and another ridiculously large white scarf and Josh is most certainly not looking at him.

"$ 267.92." 

Chris blinks at the total. "Dude."

"Shut up, Chris." Josh hands her a card out his wallet, absolutely not looking at him.

"Oh my fucking God."

The girl behind the counter is watching them, amused as she slides Josh's card. A receipt prints and Josh is signing.

"You're expensive." Chris bitches and Josh punches his arm. 

The girl hands Josh a large bag, pressing a finger to her lips when she looks at Chris. He effectively shuts up, trailing behind Josh as he leaves. 

"So no H&M?" Chris asks when they're outside. 

The look Josh gives him makes his skin crawl and he's honestly very scared. They go to H&M where Josh spends $100, then forever 21 where he spends $ 50 and eventually they end up in Hot Topic where Josh doesn't buy anything but seems to enjoy how uncomfortable Chris is. 

It's not until they're back in the car that Chris feels like he can actually breathe. Josh is laughing at him. He shoves his bags in the backseat of Chris' car, looking all to amused. 

"Spent nearly half a grand." Josh snorts.

"Shut up. How am I supposed to provide for you? You're expensive as shit. This prospect never occurred to me." Chris leans against the car.

"Good thing I have money right?"

Chris rolls his eyes, opening the driver's door. 

"Your standards are low as shit, man."

Josh takes down his surgical mask, climbing into the car. He shoots Chris a sharp tooth smile. 

"Good thing your personality is ok."

Chris gapes at him. "My personality is great, thank you. It'd be an honor to date me. I'm a pleasure."

"Sounds like a bad speech written by a teacher."

"Just vicious, man. Absolutely vicious." Chris starts the car, making small sobbing noises.

"Here play your shitty music and shut up." Josh hands him the AUX cable.

Chris plays the Beatles if only to be petty and childish but he can't help but laugh when Josh gives him a look of utter betrayal. He bitches the whole way home about how trash John Lennon is. 

Chris listens to the rant the entire time, even when they're safely inside, bags of clothes in the living room and Josh is still going. 

"Oh my god, I'll never do it again." Chris promises.

"Good because I have two months worth of shit to bitch about in regards to the Beatles."

Chris rubs his temples and sighs. He smirks at Josh, ignoring the curious look, before he backs him against the wall. Chris' hand curls under his chin, thumb lightly pressing against his scars. Josh's eyes flicker down to his lips, watching closely when a tongue flicks out.

"So," Chris starts, earning Josh's attention. "We should talk about us."

"What about us?"

"Ya know, If we're dating. Not dating. Brojobs?" Chris shrugs, pressing soft kisses along the other's jaw.

Josh chuckles softly, purring. "I like brojobs. Maybe we could try dating."

"Maybe?" Chris asks, nipping small bites along his neck.

"Go slow." Josh swallows hard, fingers coming to rest in Chris' hair.

"Mmhm." Chris hums, sucking a small bruise into Josh's exposed collar bone. 

"Probably date." Josh gasps, arching into the touch. "Sex with lights off."

"Why? Nervous?" Chris has his hands up Josh's sweater, fingers tracing over scars.

"Yes," Josh's breath hitches and he's tensing up. Chris kisses him softly, coaxing his mouth open with his tongue. He smiles wordlessly, feeling Josh melt into him. 

"Sex with the lights off." Chris agrees. "Will you show me?"

"Yeah." Josh promises. "Today?"

"Yeah, okay. If you want." Chris takes a step back.

Josh stands before him, lips swollen, and he reaches for the corners of his shirt. His hesitation is immediate, avoiding Chris' eye completely. Josh tugs the shirt up slowly, the sharp dip in his hips apparent, then a scar, more specifically the dark beginnings of a scar. There's four that line the expanse of Josh's torso like a kid's bad drawing. They're relatively old, gnarled and warped and healed into light silvery patches of skin. 

"That's kinda bad ass." Chris states, reaching out to touch them.

Josh flinches, steadying himself. "No it's not."

Chris flattens a hand on Josh's tense stomach, unable to really see the small puckered wounds he felt before but he runs his hand along the scars, idly exploring where they stop and begin. He pulls Josh closer by his hips, pressing a soft kiss to the other's forehead.

Josh shrugs. "It's not. It's weird."

"No it's not, Josh." Chris assures him, running his hands along Josh's torso. He runs the pads of his thumbs along the new skin, mapping what lies underneath. Josh shudders, lips against his and moving. 

"I'm sorry." He whispers, kissing the corner of Chris' mouth.

"It's okay. We're okay." Chris promises, holding him close.

They're okay. They're okay.


	10. Easy A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more into the fray

The snow crunches underneath his boots, his movements sluggish as he stumbles along in the darkening woods. The sun sets low in the distance. His nose burns against the cold, teeth chattering noisily. He can see the others walking ahead of him, dressed in black with red strings tied around their necks. His lungs burn and he's running after them. The trees blend together, meshing int a solid wall of blackness and they're running to.

Tiny red droplets fall into the snow, peppering the surface a deep shade of crimson. Jessica falls first, her string loosening as she falls, head rolling clean off her body. The others move on, unperturbed, and they're so much faster than him, faster. Jessica's head winks at him as he passes, bruises glistening in the soft light.

The next is Ashley, who pulls Matt down with her. Their strings untangling together, the wet slide of flesh moving easily together. Where there bodies fall, their heads stare on at the bright light in the distance. Emily falls after, then Mike until it's him and Sam. The heads of their friends smile after them and they're cheering, they're screaming at him to live. 

He calls for Sam and she turns back, eyes bright and glistening with tears and she's shouting words he can't hear. The snow packs higher, the path blurred in snow flurries.

"Cochise."

He doesn't look back, fighting against the ice and sleet, boots slipping for purchase on the ground. He can't.

"You just gonna leave a guy hanging?"

His teeth grind together and he's trying, trying so damn hard to reach Sam. Josh's voice lingers behind him, scalding and boiling under his skin. Don't look back. Can't look back.

"I thought it was you and me til the end."

He hesitates, head turning and he actually looks over his shoulder. Josh is sitting in a wooden chair, snow falling around him, arms bound tight behind his back. The heads of their friends circle him, dead eyes staring back. 

He tries to talk, tries to breathe but he can't. Josh's head tilts to the side, a hard calculating look moving over his features like a glaze. A laugh bubbles out of his chest, a dark, haunting sound that creeps into his skin and he can't stop. He's running again, after Sam but she's so far ahead. Josh's laugh follows behind him, caressing him in a thick darkness.

"Lead the way, Cochise."

His body falls forward, air supply cut short and Sam is spinning out of his line of vision. He can see his body slump into the snow as he floats through the air, red string falling onto the ground. He watches Sam make it, watches her disappear as his vision bleeds.

Chris snaps awake, body bolting upright. He scrambles to find his bed lamp, knocking over a couple of books that clutter the surface. Chris yanks the small string, too hard and it snaps. His corner of the room lights up dimly. Shadows dance in the corners.

His chest burns, screaming for oxygen as his lungs struggle. Chris wheezes, clutching a hand to his chest. A body stirrs beside him and Chris bolts from the bed, legs tangled in blankets. He knocks into his night stand, pressing himself into the farthest wall. Josh is looking at him drowsily, propped up on his elbows and he's rubbing his eyes as he checks his phone. Josh is talking but Chris can't hear him.

He can't hear anything beyond the panicked beating of his pulse. Bile builds in his throat as he stumbles into the bathroom, barely making the toilet. His spine protests with each violent heave, knees buckling under him. Chris finds himself curled around the toilet seat, curled in tight, trying to breathe. Josh is in the doorway, holding towels and he's trying to touch Chris but the other flinches away. The hurt on Josh's face latches onto Chris' brain.

"You wanna talk about it?" Josh asks quietly.

They're in bed again, vomit cleaned and Chris has his back to Josh, eyes unseeing as they stare into the wall. He shakes his head. Josh doesn't respond, shifting beside him. His head dogs into Chris' spine, thin arms coming to curl around his torso. Chris cries softly into his hands when Josh falls asleep.

They're okay.

Okay to the point where Chris is constantly wondering when this honeymoon phase is going to drag out from under him. He can feel it in the air, whenever Josh mentions his sisters or the mountain; he can feel it settling against him and it sets his nerves on edge. Their conversations never go beyond Josh's new psychiatrist and the new medication he's on. The new medication that causes Josh to have fits where he breaks things and screams and it reminds Chris of everything that made him afraid of the woods, of snow. He always keeps his distance after; doesn't let Josh touch him, mouthing off excuse after excuse.

His nightmares are starting to look a lot like their fights but they all end with Josh crouched over him with a mouth full of puss and bone and he leaves Chris on that snow capped mountain to die because it's what he deserves. Chris can sometimes only see Josh as a monster, a monster he left on that mountain. The best friend he left on that mountain.

It gets worse. For Chris. His anxiety increases with each passing day, each time Josh's phone dings, each time Josh comes back from running, sweaty and face flushed red and normal because he's trying and Chris isn't. Chris is terrified of the conversation he'll have to have when everyone gets together again. Because that will mean acknowledging that Josh wasn't supposed to come back. 

It makes Chris nervous to the point where his insomnia flares up again. When Josh brings up that he's acting strange, Chris snaps at him. They fight. Fighting is healthy and normal. Ashley and Chris had plenty of disputes, just Ashley never tried to bite off his fingers during one.

Josh doesn't bring it up again. Chris doesn't either. Instead they make out or Josh sticks his hand down Chris' pants and sometimes, sometimes they almost go too far- to the point where Josh is underneath him, writhing and hot and Chris wants to consume him completely.

They're okay.

Chris knows how he's acting is the exact opposite of what Josh needs. Sam is what Josh needs. But Josh stays and takes his meds and runs because it helps with his excess aggression. Josh stays and he jokes more, laughs more; this crisp, beautiful sound that Chris has never heard before and he just wants them to stay as they are. But Chris can't hide Josh forever.

"So," Josh begins, back pressed against Chris' bare chest. They're sitting in a tub full of pink water that smells like florals and heaven dipped in honey. It's filled to the edge, water slopping messily over the edge.

"I've been talking to Sam. We're going to have a get together. I think I'm ready. I feel ready." Josh tells him, head tilting to the side as Chris mouths along the curve of his neck. Chris kisses his shoulder, arms wrapped tight around Josh's torso.

"Okay" is all he says but the syllables taste sour on his tongue. Josh sighs, running his fingers along the edge of the tub. He doesn't protest when Chris' hand cups his chin and turns his head to side, coaxing his mouth open into a kiss.

"You're awfully affectionate today." Josh smiles against him.

Chris is. He admits this to himself but his nightmares have gotten worse and he doesn't want Josh to leave. Chris shifts Josh forward, angling his body until they're facing one another, Josh in his lap. His hand traces on of the scars, sliding along the slick skin until Chris reaches his shoulder. Chris wonders if Josh can see the same blue finish line he can.

"Wanna talk about it?" Josh asks, expression open. And it's Chris that should be asking him that. Chris that should be offering support and comfort. He looks at Josh, tracking every curve and scar and stark contrast of bone and skin, he looks until he can't stand it. Chris shakes his head and Josh sighs, a small smile sliding across his face. He bends down, angling his face to the side as he pulls Chris into a long kiss. Chris leaves bites along his shoulder, his collarbone and Josh allows it, allows Chris to hold his hips too tight and breathe swears deep into his skin. They never go too far. Chris bites his knuckle, fighting the urge to cry when Josh wanders out of the bathroom for a glass of water.

"So we're having the party, er reunion at Sam's. Cause she has a house." Josh tells him, toothbrush hanging from his lips. His fingers work rapidly over the screen of his phone and the ghost a smile crosses his face. Chris can't find it within himself to be happy.

"I'm excited." Josh beams, gaze turning to Chris. "I mean, I'm not excited that we get to have hard conversations because of what I've done but it'll be nice to see them."

Chris struggles to smile. He's on his bed, tired as his eyes track Josh's movements around the room. Chris rubs his face roughly, blowing out a hot puff of air because that blue line is closer and maybe if he just spits his guilt out, Josh will rip his ribs from his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut at the thought. Josh wasn't a monster, wasn't a monster. He's getting better, he's so much better. Better, better.

"We have to get ready to go."

The bed dips accommodating the new weight as it moves over the surface. Chris keeps his eyes closed, images of Josh tied up in a snow covered shack bleeding into his eyelids. 

"Chris?" It's a small sound, a meek, hesitant noise from somewhere far away. 

"I love you." Chris breathes, eyes opening to look at Josh, who is sitting beside him on the edge of the bed. He's in his stupid slouchy cardigan and a light grey shirt that fits better than it did two weeks ago. An old beanie is on his head that Chris realizes was Beth's. Josh is staring at him, mouth shaped, wordless and silent. 

"I love you, Josh." And it feels like the last thing he'd ever want Josh to know, the last thing he'd ever want to say because dread sets deep in his throat. 

Josh swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing. He turns away, eyes flickering rapidly into nothingness. 

"I love you too, Cochise." Josh says softly. "You've been pretty great with me the past few months."

Chris wants to scream. He wants to punch a wall, punch something but he can't because Josh won't understand, he won't understand without having an awful conversation. Part of Chris wants to think Josh will understand, that Josh won't be mad and he'll just laugh and smile crookedly. 

"We gotta go. Get dressed, bro."

And Josh is gone from the room. Chris yanks his glasses off his face and throws them. They hit the wall. Chris breathes loudly through his nose before he actually moves to dress himself. He does so slowly, tugging on a clean shirt, then a long sleeved one, then a button up and another shirt. Chris layers and layers until the chill in his bones goes away but even still it lingers and bites. 

Josh waits for him in the foyer, the large red scarf draped around his neck. He gives Chris a small, uneven smile. Chris can't remember the last time Josh even wore his surgical mask out the house. He slides into his boots, not bothering to lace them up and tugs on his jacket. Josh makes a joke about layers.

Chris doesn't laugh.

But he grabs Josh's hand, thumb brushing over the pulse in his wrist. Josh is alive. Josh is standing in front of him, alive and warm. 

Chris wants this to be easy.

Josh squeezes his hand, rising up to kiss him. 

"You're more nervous than me, man."

Chris thinks he might have more to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /ambient noise disappears/


	11. White Winter Hymnal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then there were two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, we are finished. Done. The most complete. Thank you for reading and commenting and generally being the best group a kid could ask for. Thank you, thank you.<333
> 
> Warning: there is an explicit sex scene, which is honestly why this is so long. I have added '--' before and after for anyone who would like to skip it. c:

Sam's small bungalow is buzzing. It's dim lights casting a calming hue on the surrounding yard. Cars line her drive way, Chris recognizes each of them, lining up beside Jess' CJ5. Bodies move in front of the open windows, tiny Christmas lights dangling over head. 

Josh sits in his seat, positively jittery. His leg bounces nervously, chewing his bottom lip. Chris cuts off the engine. 

"What do you think they'll say?" Josh asks.

"They'll say your scarf is stupid." Chris jokes, trying to keep his voice light.

"Dude, this scarf is amazing." 

"You're like the Rapunzel of scarves."

Josh nudges him roughly. "Shut up."

They sit in silence, both staring at the door until it opens revealing Sam. She's in cut off shorts and that's probably the closest she'll ever get to pants. Her arm raises in exasperation. Josh chuckles softly.

"Busted. Let's go, Cochise."

The walk to the door is slow, Chris' steps heavy even as Josh laces their fingers together. Sam's house hadn't changed. Still dark blue walls with quilted accents that remind Chris a lot of a witch's lair. Jess sees them first when they enter, hopping up from her seat on the couch. She hurries over, hugging Josh immediately, knocking her shoulder against Chris and she's crying already. Chris tries to step away to give them so privacy but Josh's grip is bone crushing.

It seems appropriate for Jess to be first, after what happened on the mountain, she was the first to be dragged away. Ashley is standing beside the fireplace, watching the display with Matt, who nods at Chris in greeting. Mike has an arm around Emily while they stand nearby in the living room. Sam claps Chris on the shoulder.

Josh eyes Jess nervously. "This wasn't what I was expecting." 

His expression changes when he sees her face, the fine red scars that mark her once flawless complexion. Pain ripples across his features and Josh touches his own, immediately self conscious. He moves to shift his scarf up higher but Jess is grabbing his hand and shaking her head.

"You're still as hot as the first day I met your annoying ass." Jess laughs, eyes wet with tears. "We can be hot twins."

Josh appears to be at a loss, slowly releasing Chris' hand. He averts his eyes. Jess cups his face in her hands, smoothing away stray tears that escape his eyes. She hugs him again, tighter, and Josh hugs back this time, burying his face in her neck and she's whispering softly in his ear. 

It's a domino effect after that. Matt, surprisingly goes next, pulling Josh into a hug that ends with an awkward shoulder pat that leaves both of them laughing.

Chris wasn't expecting sappy because that's just not how they're group worked, he expected half hearted apologies despite the emotions running high. The reunion wasn't sappy, it wasn't half assed and when Mike is choking on a sob saying how bad he feels Chris knows then they were built to last.

Ashley pulls Chris to the side with a knowing look. The others are distracted by Josh, Emily chattering rapidly about how Mike almost shot her. Ashley shoves Chris into the small space of the kitchen.

"What?" Chris asks tiredly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"You. That's what. I thought this was what you wanted?"

Chris slumps against one of the counters, thick swells of laughter floating in from the hallway.

"This is what I wanted." 

Ashley crosses her arms, eyebrow arched high.

"Okay then explain. Now."

Chris rubs the bridge of his nose. "He doesn't know that we, that I, left him tied up in a shed."

"You also didn't know about the wendigos. None of us did." Ashley points out.

"Yeah, I get that. I just keep thinking of how we should have left him tied up somewhere in the house, like the basement, instead. Josh was sick, I knew he was sick, and I left him like live bait."

Ashley reaches for him, arms pulling him into a tight hug. Chris accepts the embrace wordlessly, the familiar smell of cherries and green tea flooding his senses.

"You did what you thought was safe. We thought he was trying to kill us. You went back for him, Chris. You went back. You made a decision. Josh made a decision too."

Ashley holds his shoulder, leaning back to look at him. "And if he doesn't understand, if he's so angry then you have to accept it, Chris, and move on. Plus Sam already said you guys could share me as long as you never want a threesome."

Ashley winks for emphasis and Chris remembers why he ever looked her way. Ashley was the sun during spring, the rivers during soft rain. Chris wishes he could have given her everything, all of him but it wasn't their timeline. When Josh came back, the string that held them together severed, dislocated series of events that no longer held the value they once held. Josh came back and Chris left.

Someone clears their throat in the doorway. They startle, jumping apart. Ashley's cheeks tint pink, the beginnings of a "it's not what you think" on her lips. Josh waves a hand, eyes assessing before he smiles, slow and careful. A red solo cup dangles from his fingers. Chris realizes that Josh and Ashley still hadn't spoken.

"Interrupting?" Josh strides up to them.

Chris shakes his head. "Ash wanted to talk."

"Yeah," Ashley agrees readily. "To give him my blessing."

"Blessing?" Confusion is evident in Josh's face.

"You forgot you stole my boyfriend?" Ashley giggles, no trace of venom in her words. "I'm blessing him for his infidelity, his new relationship and sex."

Chris chokes on his own saliva. He feels his face heat up with embarrassment. Josh elbows him, taking a sip of his drink.

"Chill, Cochise."

"We haven't had sex. Just a lot of other stuff."

Ashley's eyebrows shoot up. "Really?! Even Sam and I have..." She trails off. "Never mind. Well may your first time be glorious."

"Shit. Thanks, Ash." Josh mumbles taking a swing of his drink.

"Someone's gotta have your back, Washington."

Watching them interact was weird. Josh didn't really know Ashley in high school despite his obvious attempts to set her and Chris up. But this wasn't high school, this was after.

"You can't have my girl. No take backs."

Sam is suddenly between Ashley and Josh, hooking an arm around her girlfriend's torso. Ashley hides her blush in her hair.

"You tell them about the foursome?"

Josh spits out of his drink. "Oh my god, Sam."

Sam smirks, waggling her eyebrows. "Possibilities."

"Is the actual party in here?" Mikes voice rings out from the living room. The kitchen crowds with the remaining few, too loud and too chatty, but Chris can see how much Josh missed this, missed people.

"I don't think we were ever this close in high school. Wendigos should be put on the list of bonding group experiences. Zombies next. I'm really feeling it." Matt supplies earning a playful jab from Mike.

"No zombies, Matt." Jess groans, holding Emily's hand.

"Wendigos?"

Everyone in the room shifts to Josh, different versions of confusion shuffling through the room. Chris meets Sam's eyes, who sighs and all he can think is that it's time.

"He doesn't remember." Chris tells the group. But Josh is staring at him, gaze burning with something he can't decipher.

"You left me in a shed." Josh whispers. "I-I still don't remember a lot. But I remember being tied up and screaming and Hannah?"

"We didn't know that the wendigos were real." Mike hurries to explain. "We made a shitty decision but we thought you'd had kill Jess."

"So it wasn't me who hurt Jess?" Josh asks softly, eyes focused on the floor. He looks at Mike before slowly turning his gaze to Chris. 

"You left me," Josh swallows, arms curling around his middle. "tied up in a shed. And then you left me in the mines where my dead sister dragged me away?"

Mike steps up before Chris can respond, guilt coloring his face a shade paler. He moves to reach for Josh's arm but falls short, shrinking back into himself. 

"For what it's worth, man. I'm sorry. I wouldn't- if it happened again, I'd go back for you."

"They aren't alone in this, Josh." Sam says, coming to stand beside Mike. She wraps a hand around Josh's forearm. Her expression is something Chris has never seen before, wrapped up in an expanse of warmth and adoration. 

"We all left. It sucks, we know. But you know that better than we do." Emily adds on, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "We... We just want..."

"To move forward. Together." Emily shoots Jess a small smile as she huddles the group together. "We've been through a lot. What's a few more years going to hurt?"

They're crowding around Josh, who seems unbothered by the close proximity. He stares down at his shoes, affixed on a certain part area on the floor. Tears form in the corner of his eyes and Chris almost thinks Josh won't accept what they have to say because he can and even though they've forgiven Josh for his prank and unintentional involvement in the supernatural food chain, Josh didn't have to forgive them.

"Well it's nice to know I'm not some cannibalising mass murderer. I can rest easy." Josh jokes, earning small chuckles in response, his eyes locked on Chris who lingers behind the rest of them.

"The scar is kinda hot." Mike makes a gesture to his own face.

Ashley snorts out a laugh as Matt glares at Mike, making rapid eyebrow movements until Mike frowns, mouthing 'what'.

"You're both idiots." Emily huffs. "We're here for you, Josh."

"We also have three dogs." Jess beams, hands coming to rest of Emily's shoulders. "Three super cute balls of fluff, perfect for comfort."

"And Mike works at a bakery part time so we'll make sure to send you cakes and shit until you forgive us." Matt chuckles when Mike ears tint red.

"You work at a bakery?" Sam gasps, eyes crinkling in amusement and she's laughing. 

"It's part time!" Mike defends, blushing bright red.

"Nah, babe. You like it a lot." Matt pats his back, shaking his head. "No need to be shy."

"It's gotta be organic bird feed." Sam adds and they're all looking at Josh. His expression is amused and he gives a half hearted shrug that has Jess whooping loudly. 

They watch a movie, specifically Dawn of the Dead ("it'll make us closer without having to die!") after, squeezed to tight on Sam's couch until Matt and Emily slide to the floor hand in hand. Josh doesn't lean into Chris like he usually would instead he talks to Sam, earning soft giggles after certain scenes.

Chris isn't sure what to make of the situation. He didn't speak up during the conversation in the kitchen, didn't bother to defend himself like everyone else readily had. But he was also ready for the unexpected, Josh telling them to fuck off and storming away. Maybe Chris was just afraid Josh actually wanted to stay with his 'left you in a shed, yolo' ass. Chris felt tired, was tired and he didn't want to drag on any unnecessary awfulness.

Josh grips his knee and gives it a light squeeze, eyes still focused on the the TV. The protagonist on the screen are readying the trucks, preparing to live and make it to the end. Chris takes Josh's hand, nervous but the other intertwines their fingers easily.

Josh leans over to Sam, whispering softly and she's nodding before giving Chris a small smile. 

"Let's go. I'm beat." Josh turns to him, standing up. The others don't seem to notice their leaving, Matt's head leaned against Mike's knee with Jess curled up into Mike's side. Emily texts on her phone from Matt's lap, sending up a waving finger. Ashley gives them a small wave as Sam makes kissy faces.

Chris allows himself to be pulled away from Sam's living room, out her front door and towards his car. Josh doesn't turn to him or say anything just climbs into the passenger seat, plugging his phone up to the AUX cable. Chris opens the drivers door, plopping down in the seat a bit too hard. He starts the car wordlessly.

"Can we go somewhere?" 

Chris glances at Josh. "Where?"

"Anywhere. Don't want to go home." Josh says, selecting a song on his phone. The base of the song rattles the dashboard. Chris eases out of Sam's driveway, unsure of where to go so he drives until they reach the wide lake near the Washington's. Chris can't see Josh's house or any houses from the clearing they're in. It's not really even a clearing, just a small accessible place covered in heavy trees. Leaves brush against the windshield, moonlight dancing along the waters black surface.

"Was that why you wouldn't let me touch you?" Josh asks quietly, eyes following the trail of moonlight over the water. "Distancing yourself just in case I flipped."

Chris shrugs.

"Talk to me."

"I don't even know what to talk about."

"Anything," Josh shrugs. "The year after, how you managed. You leaving me behind, anything, Chris."

Chris takes off his glasses, a headache slowly forming. He sighs into his hand, staring out at the water. 

"I had nightmares about it. Bad ones. About you becoming a wendigo and hunting me down and killing me because it would make us even. I left you in a shed, tied up knowing you were off your meds but I didn't know about the wendigos. I didn't know until we met this guy."

"The one who died?" Josh asks.

"Yeah, he died in front of me. We went back for you and you were gone." Chris whispers, setting his glasses on the dashboard. He slouches in his seat.

"I'm sorry, man." 

Chris chuckles darkly. "It's me who should be saying sorry. I'm sorry, Josh. I'm sorry I couldn't get you back, but... But I went back for you."

"Sure did, Cochise." There's a smile in his voice. "I can't believe you were such an illusive shit. Because you thought I'd be mad? It's my fault we were there anyway." 

"I was scared." Chris admits.

"Why?"

"Thought maybe you'd leave."

"That's kinda gay, bro." Josh jokes, leaning over to him. He reaches for Chris' seat, humming in content when it shifts back with ease Chris moving with it. "Really gay. And dumb. You were supposed to be smarter than me."

"No homo, man." Chris replies, tracing a small bruise on the other's exposed collarbone.

\--  
Josh hums again, deep in his throat, sliding over the center console. His legs straddle Chris' thighs, body curved as he presses their bodies together. Chris meets him halfway, lips parted and ready and he doesn't realizes how much he's missed this until now. 

"I really don't want to fuck you for the first time in my car."

"Kinda the point here." Josh smirks against him, one hand working on the front of Chris' pants. "I happen to love car sex."

"You're impossible. It smells like cheese fries in here."

"This is an Ashley conversation." Josh whispers, unbuttoning Chris shirt, lips ghosting along the vein in Chris' throat. He bites down, sucking a bruise into the skin. Chris swears above him. 

"This is not an Ashley conversation." Chris responds but he's pushing Josh against the steering wheel, hands slipping inside Josh's shirt. Chris slides their mouths together, shuddering when the edges of sharp teeth scrape over his tongue. Josh lets Chris lead, lazily shrugging out of his cardigan. His elbow hits the horn, which honks weakly. Chris bites his chin when he laughs.

"That was the weakest fucking noise."

"Shut the fuck up, Josh." Chris has Josh's shirt halfway off, teeth snagging on a loose thread. The shirt clings around Josh's head, arms bent back, nostrils flaring from where Chris can see. 

"Did it get fucking stuck?"

Chris is not laughing, except he is. He does hurry to help, utterly amused by Josh in his lap, half naked, teeth tangled in the threads of his shirt.

"Brooo." Josh whines, tugging upwards but he winces, threads wedging themselves further between his teeth.

"Shoulda seduced me at home." Chris hums, moving to help. He pulls the shirt down a little, loosening up the tiny threads.

"We could've fucked in the foyer," Chris unravels a thread from one of the teeth, thumb purposely dragging along Josh's bottom lip. 

"On the couch," Chris smirks, noticing the slight squirm the other has. He leans in, breaths mingling, his left hand sliding down Josh's stomach. 

"Dude, really?" Josh huffs as Chris' bends down. His breath hitches, arching into the warmth of Chris' mouth as his lips close around his nipple. "Duuuude."

Chris bites the down on the hardening nub, rolling it around in his teeth, tongue sliding roughly along the skin. He can hear Josh above him, ragged and whimpering, a high static noise in his throat. 

"Against the wall." Chris continues, moving to the other nipple as Josh curses above him. He gives it the same treatment as the other, Josh's upper chest glistening and pink by the time he's finished. Chris realizes if Josh actually wanted to, he probably could free himself, rip the shirt apart with his teeth.

"You gettin' off on this?"

"Fuck you." Josh hisses, voice hoarse.

"We coulda been doin' that, bro. Anywhere in my house." Chris kisses him soundly, palming the bulge in Josh's pants. Josh whimpers, pulling at his shirt again. Chris takes his wrists in his other hand, for once grateful that Josh is smaller than him. He holds Josh against the steering wheel as he unzips the others pants.

"You're a fucking-" Josh moans when Chris wraps a hand around his dick. He arches his hips, pressing into Chris' hand.

"Nice guy for letting you fuck my hand? Thanks, bro." Chris thumbs the slit, fingers curling along the base as he pumps, studying the way Josh's mouth slacks open, soft breathy noises escaping his throat. He's practically vibrating, tingles racing over his skin leaving tiny goosebumps behind and it takes a moment for Chris to realize the buzzing noise is Josh. Chris slows his hand, licking his way into Josh's mouth. The response is immediate, Josh panting against him, grinding down against his hand and it's so good, so so good. He makes a low keening noise.

"Please, please, please." Josh whimpers, groaning loudly when Chris takes away his hand.

"Still gotta untangle you." Chris unhooks the last couple of strands, barely able to concentrate because Josh keeps rolling his hips down. "You gotta stop."

Josh yanks his shirt off, tearing at it and tossing it somewhere in the passengers seat. His eyes are blown wide, pupils narrowed into thin slits and he's shoving Chris against the seat, legs widening as he grinds down again.

Chris holds his hips, angling to side as he moves to meet Josh's movements. Josh hisses, bristling in annoyance and he's whining again, fluttery and high.

"Please. Chris, please. Please." 

"Okay, okay," Chris breathes, edging into the backseat. His back catches on the seat belt holder, digging painfully into his skin but he's not bothered by it especially when Josh is shimmying out of his pants, head hitting the top of the car. When Chris laughs, he glares at him.

"Coulda had sex at home." Chris ignores another glare, sliding his pants down enough to get his dick out. Josh is fumbling in the passenger seat, stupid slouchy cardigan flying in another direction. He makes a noise of triumphant that's really more clicking and chittering. 

Josh is on top of him seconds later, naked, silvery scars glowing faintly in the light. There might be lube in his hands but Chris isn't sure, his attention focused more on the mouth on his, hot and wet and needy. Chris watches Josh sit up, watches Josh slide a slick finger inside him, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Josh adds another finger, shortly after another and he's fucking himself on his fingers, dick throbbing and red. Chris takes the head in his hand, running a finger along the vein and Josh's hips stutter. 

"You have any idea how hot you are?"

Josh chuckles breathlessly. "Pretty fucking princess right here." 

Chris slides back, caressing the curve of Josh's ass. He pushes his middle finger inside him, moving along side Josh's fingers. Josh's hips stutter as Chris slides in another finger, leaving marks on whatever piece of skin he can find.

"Okay, okay." Josh whispers, wedging one leg between Chris and the seat, the other straightening as he lines up with Chris' dick. Chris tries talking him through it but it comes out garbled and Josh is fucking sinking down on him. Chris grips his hips tightly, cursing out loud as he watches himself disappear inside Josh. He bottoms out, Josh whimpering out inhuman noises, breathing hard through his nose. Chris convulses beneath him, head hitting the door as he struggles to not move. 

Josh sighs, face flushed red, nails digging deep into Chris' shirt. His hips shift, causing them both to moan, and he does it again, and again, Chris' grip bruising, establishing a rhythm, barely pulling up as he nudges the head of Chris' penis against his prostate. Josh releases a throaty noise, bottom lip bleeding from where he's bitten too hard. Chris bends Josh toward him, sloppily kisses exchanged, grunting deep in his throat as the other works against him, tiny moans escaping.

His insides are throbbing, veins singing and he's still kinda wishing that they waited but Josh is above him, hips riding down against him, narrowed eyes locked on, face so open and bottomless that Chris wants to drown in it. Josh stiffens, spine arching up and he braces himself against the window, coming quietly into the crook of his elbow. He clenches around Chris, hips still moving through the aftershocks and Chris is coming next, holding the quivering body above him close. 

\--

They stay like that, curled around one another, the soft lull of Josh's purrs filling the car. Chris slides himself out, tucking Josh into his side, who looks exhausted. He isn't sure how long they lie there, tangled in one another. 

"You didn't even get undressed." Josh mumbles sleepily.

"That's a at home luxury. At least you made it to the bone zone."

"Fucking dick." Josh sits up slowly, wincing. He eyes his ripped shirt petulantly. Chris slowly removes his unbuttoned shirt, draping it over Josh's shoulder. 

"This one doesn't have come on it."

Josh pulls it on. "Maybe we should've done this at home." 

Chris presses a kiss to the back of his head. "Always later."

Chris finally has another reason, besides extreme cold, to wear multiple layers. He wipes up his come on the back seat, smirking as the white liquid slides down the back of Josh's legs.

"This is gross." Josh bitches, noticing Chris' state as he moves. "You're a sick freak. I'm learning a lot of shit about you today, man."

"You're the one who suggested barebacking in my car."

"You're the one who liked it." Josh mimics his tone, using Chris' already ruined shirt to wipe his thighs. He tugs on his boxers, then his jeans, grunting the entire time. Chris watches, still fully dressed. Josh flicks him off.

"Asshole."

"I'll make it up to you, bro." Chris climbs over him, trapping Josh against the door. They kiss, soft and slow, Chris wedged between Josh's legs. Josh sighs against him. 

"'m tired." 

"Definitely not sleeping here."

Chris moves away, climbing into the front seat. He starts the car, buckling his seatbelt over his chest. Josh slides into the passenger seat, bare feet on the dashboard.

"So what, did you think I was going to go crazy? Kill you in your sleep?" Josh snickers, rolling down the window. He sticks a leg out.

Chris shrugs, backing out onto the side road. "I thought you wouldn't forgive me."

"Well, lucky for you. It doesn't matter. I'm here now. I've got my meds and you. They don't hate me. Who could predict wendigos? I could of been a superhero."

Chris laughs this time. "Super wendibro."

"Wendibros and company." Josh gestures dramatically with his hand and Chris laughs again and it's freeing. Josh is looking at him as he does, face lit up with a crooked smile. 

"You're a fucking dork, Chris."

"Shut up, man. I was nervous. I thought you'd hate me."

"Nah dude. But you owe me breakfast for a month. Real shit. None of that smoothie business."

Josh takes his hand, intertwining their fingers as he leans against Chris. He yawns, tugging the dumb slouchy cardigan over his body. Josh curls up in his seat, eyes sliding closed.

"Take me home, Cochise."

And it was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Srsly you guys are great

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously her work is amazing. Pls go look.


End file.
